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Up The Wall

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Donghyuck is royally pissed at Mark Lee and, contrary to how it is normally, it’s completely substantiated this time.

That entitled, self-absorbed, pretentious asshole decided to take what should’ve been a mutual decision into his own hands without even bothering to notify Donghyuck after the fact. He had to find out all on his own that Mark had made an announcement about a new corporate partner without Donghyuck’s consent to the idea because he knew Donghyuck would’ve said no. Personal feelings about the partnership aside, Donghyuck’s inclined to think it’s not a great idea, and the last thing Lee Corp needs is a repeat of history.

It’s common knowledge that the two branches of Lee Corp don’t get along. They’re run by two different families, and the matching last name is where the similarities both begin and end. 

They’re Co-CEOs, a relatively new development for the company. Previously it’d been a CEO from Mark’s family lineage and a COO from Donghyuck’s, but that all changed last generation with their fathers when Mark’s made a questionable financial decision that Donghyuck’s pulled the company out of with some rather innovative tactics — if he does say so himself — and got enough begrudging respect that the change was made. 

The two sides still hate each other, though, and Donghyuck and Mark are no different. Nothing has changed. Donghyuck doubts that it ever will.

For right now, unfortunately, there’s nothing he can do about it, and stooping as low as to use Mark’s personal phone number — they exchanged them purely out of formality — is even something Donghyuck won’t go to. Mark’s out of the building conducting business somewhere else, Donghyuck has a pile of paperwork to get through before the end of the night, and he doesn’t feel like a wild goose chase for his idiotic, self-serving co-worker would be the best use of his valuable time.

He honestly doesn’t expect the opportunity to speak to Mark until the next week as the sun sets on the last day of the work week outside of Donghyuck’s highrise office, silhouetting the city skyline beautifully. He’d already drafted a rather passive aggressive email on it to vent out his frustrations, but his lovely secretary convinced him not to send it and that they can just deal with it next week once everyone’s had a chance to cool off and think clearly. Donghyuck makes a mental note to himself to ask Jungwoo about important decisions more often.

Staying late at the office on Fridays isn’t something Donghyuck tends to do on the regular, often having other important PR events to make appearances at, but this week he doesn’t have anything booked and he even got to send Jungwoo home early because all he has left to do is finish up looking over some documents and then he’s free to spend the weekend lazing around his penthouse with his brother and three cats and do absolutely nothing. Jeno’s probably waiting for him now with some new Netflix recommendation, and the thought makes him all the more eager to finish up and get back home.

Unfortunately, the universe seems to have different plans for Donghyuck the moment he steps out of his office.

Down the hall just a little bit resides Mark’s office, and there’s light filtering through the crack under the door. Irritation bites down on something in his chest, leaving itself there to fester, and Donghyuck suddenly has the brilliant idea that he should confront Mark about the whole situation now instead of waiting. He’ll apologize to Jungwoo later for breaking that promise.

Donghyuck doesn’t even bother knocking on the door, just turning the handle and letting himself in. With just a touch more fanfare than is strictly necessary, Donghyuck marches up to Mark’s desk and leans both hands on it, bending down so he’s at face level with him.

Mark doesn’t look up when he comes in, nor does he make any acknowledgement of his presence until Donghyuck clears his throat unnecessarily loudly. He continues poring over the paperwork that’s stacked into neat piles on the desk in front of him, pen never once stilling as he speaks.

“Is there something I can assist you with this evening?” His voice borders the line of teasing, as if he’s amused that Donghyuck is showing his face in his office right now. 

“Yeah, actually,” Donghyuck starts, voice sharp, but not sharp enough to cut through Mark’s cool facade. “Care to explain to me what in hell that announcement was about earlier?”

“Oh yes,” Mark muses, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. He still doesn’t look up. His pen hasn’t stopped. “I assumed you came here to be angry about the press conference afterwards.” He’s too cocky about all this right now, his ego a few dozen pegs too high up for Donghyuck’s taste.

“That too,” he grits out in response, fingertips turning white against the dark stained oak of the desk as he presses harder.

“It’s a smart business decision,” Mark replies coolly. “I thought you would’ve realized this by now, or was I overestimating your intelligence?”

“As much as I’m upset that you made the decision,” Donghyuck plows on, glossing over the blatant insult. “I’m more upset that you made the decision without my counsel.”

For some reason, out of everything, this is what gets Mark’s pen to still on his notepad. He exhales sharply, and reaches up with his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I had Jaemin send out correspondence to your secretary regarding the matter. Twice. I never received a reply and the window of opportunity was approaching rapidly, so I acted.”

“You could’ve just walked over to my office,” Donghyuck scoffs. “It’s not like it’s that far away.”

“Yes, but that would’ve involved dealing with your insufferable attitude for more than ten minutes,” Mark bites back, finally looking up at Donghyuck. He’s exhausted, eyes tired and forehead crinkled. Donghyuck is sure he isn’t helping with either of those.

“It’s not like yours is any better,” Donghyuck retorts. Mark shakes his head, clearly not in the mood to deal with him today. Donghyuck shares the sentiment, the anger now bubbled out of his system.

“This isn’t a conversation I’m interested in having,” Mark states, pursing his lips. “I’ll be taking my leave for the night.”

Those words marked the end of any semblance of normalcy between them, but Donghyuck wouldn’t realize this until much later.

Mark tries to stand, gripping the edge of his desk for support, but he winces, legs buckling out from under him as he falls back into his chair. It’s too late to school his expression into something significantly less pained without Donghyuck noticing, but he valiantly gives it his best shot anyway. There’s silence between them for a moment, Donghyuck having seen what just happened and Mark clearly waiting for the inevitable response.

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, voice a lot softer than he meant for it to be.

“I’m quite alright.” Mark waves him off. “Please leave my office, Lee.”

“You know I could just call you ‘Lee’ as well, right?” Donghyuck doesn’t move a damn inch, putting one hand on his hip, cocking it to the side.

“But you won’t.” Mark matches his gaze, unwavering.

“You’re deflecting,” Donghyuck observes.

“And you’re not leaving my office.”

“Get up and I’ll leave your office.”

Mark pulls his lips into a thin line, but does it anyway. He’s much more deliberate about it this time around, pressing his palms to the smooth, mahogany surface of the desk instead of just gripping the edge with a few fingers. He straightens up, but leaves one hand on the desk when he wobbles a bit, adjusting his stance to one side.


“Weight on both legs,” Donghyuck commands, and Mark’s expression goes dark at that, lip curling in distaste.

“You don’t get to order me around,” he sneers, but Donghyuck can see right past that facade.


Mark doesn’t provide a response to that, simply sizing Donghyuck up with a scowl before gingerly evening out his stance. He hisses, flinching when he hits a certain point, and Donghyuck feels an odd rush of pride.

“You’re hurt.”

“And we have a Sherlock, everyone,” Mark deadpans, eyes narrow.

“Why are you hurt?”

“Huh,” Mark muses, crossing his arms. He’s much more amused by this than Donghyuck expected, and that irks him. “I told Jaemin you wouldn’t notice when I was gone, but I didn’t honestly expect you to really not notice.”  

“Notice what?” Donghyuck’s eyelid twitches. Annoyance makes a resurgence in his veins, running hot and uncomfortable through his body. 

“Last year. There was a drunk driver who hit my car head-on. My leg got messed up, needed a couple surgeries to straighten things out as much as they could,” Mark explains, sounding a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing than he probably should be. “It’s just residual pain and muscle cramping at this point. Nothing a bit of heat and Tylenol won’t fix.”

A beat of uncomfortable silence.

“You’re an idiot,” is all Donghyuck manages to say.

“And you’re not helping,” Mark replies. He hobbles around the desk a bit so he can perch himself on the side of it, taking his weight off his bad leg. “It wasn’t this bad earlier,” he mumbles to himself, probably not realizing Donghyuck can still hear him.

Now, there are a few ways Donghyuck can proceed now. He can leave Mark to fend for himself, he can help Mark to his car and then let him fend for himself, or he can drive Mark home because he’s the only one here who can help. Apparently, the universe has decided to curse Donghyuck for his hubris a little bit more than usual today because he chooses the stupidest option without hesitation.

“I’m driving you home,” he declares. “Let’s go.”

“What? No!” Mark splutters in protest. He stands abruptly in his surprise, suddenly putting weight back on his leg, and he almost collapses. Donghyuck reaches him just in time, hands under Mark’s arms to hold him up.

“If you can’t walk, you can’t drive. You injured your right leg, and I’m not going to let you operate a motor vehicle. It would be a danger to society’s wellbeing.” Donghyuck gives his case to a clearly disgruntled Mark.

“And you’re a danger to my wellbeing,” he grumbles in response, but lets Donghyuck help him back up to his perch on the side of the desk, fingertips digging into Donghyuck’s biceps.

“Clearly not since I’m the only one keeping you from hurting yourself even further right now.” Donghyuck steps back, raising an eyebrow at Mark. “What do you need to take home for the weekend?”

Mark points things out: a stack of files, a paperclipped document, his laptop and charger. Donghyuck dutifully retrieves them, tucking them all neatly away into the backpack Mark brings to work. Meanwhile, Mark has managed to reach back over to snatch his suit jacket which had been hanging on the back of his chair.

“What about your stuff?” Mark asks as Donghyuck zips up the backpack, shouldering it.

“I can come back and get it later,” he dismisses. “I have what’s important.” Donghyuck pulls out his wallet, phone, and keys from his pockets to show Mark before looping an arm around his waist. “Now let’s go.”

They both conveniently gloss over the inference that Mark’s important to Donghyuck.

The slow walk down to the parking garage is actually easier than the drive to Mark’s place itself. Surprisingly enough, once Mark actually accepts help and stops trying to do everything himself, he’s not a complete terror of a human being. Donghyuck supposes he learns something new every day.

Donghyuck digs a container of Tylenol out of his glove compartment once they’re settled inside, Mark thanking him silently with nothing more than a nod. It’s more than Donghyuck expected, and he’s willing to take whatever he can get.

The bright neon lights of the city’s nightlife blur by, the only sound inside the car is the gentle purr of the engine; Mark hasn’t made any move to turn on music, and Donghyuck isn’t sure if it’ll make things any less painfully awkward.

“I can’t believe you didn’t notice I was gone for almost a month last year,” Mark notes, and Donghyuck nearly jumps. He hadn’t been expecting him to say anything, but he sounds more on the verge of laughter than stone-cold irritation. So that’s nice, at least. “I didn’t know you spent that much time actively avoiding me.”

Donghyuck tightens his grip on the steering wheel, not willing to reveal that he’d been all-too-aware of Mark’s absence those few weeks. They’d been some of the hardest ones of his history in the company because of how much work he had. Donghyuck likes to make Mark out to be this freeloading rich boy in his head, making it easy to overlook exactly how much Mark pulls his weight when it comes to the company. Donghyuck having his work a little over doubled for that month nearly killed him, and Jungwoo will attest to that.

Sure, he knew about Mark’s accident, but it’s always been easier to just let Mark hate him. It makes things less complicated that way. That’s how it’s been between their families for years, and Mark and Donghyuck have no place to change that. Once upon a time, maybe they would’ve. Not now, though. Not after everything that happened.

“I do, in fact, recall it being more peaceful in the office around that time.” He grins over at Mark, who just rolls his eyes and turns his attention back out the window at the city that rushes by. They don’t speak again until Mark directs them to the entrance of a parking garage, inside of which Donghyuck can just stop and let him out.

The light for them to turn flicks to green and Donghyuck starts forward only to step on the brakes immediately when another car comes roaring through the intersection illegally, just missing their front bumper. Both Donghyuck and Mark jolt forward at the sudden stop, Donghyuck’s hand splayed out on Mark’s chest, right in the center where the seatbelt has pulled tight.

They’re both breathing hard all of a sudden, Donghyuck’s Maserati still paused in the middle of the now-empty intersection as the tail lights of the offending vehicle disappear around a corner. It takes a moment to kick himself into gear again, but Donghyuck manages to pull inside the parking garage, never once moving his hand from where Mark’s fingers have now curled over it, holding it protectively to his chest.

Once he’s stopped somewhere that’s legal, Donghyuck shuts off the engine and finally looks over to see Mark staring straight ahead, wide-eyed, breathing stuttered. It’s only now that he’s reminded of Mark being in that car crash, a head-on collision with a drunk driver that Mark was lucky to walk out of in one piece — granted, he’d been carried out on a stretcher some time later once the paramedics arrived, but the point is still the same. Donghyuck doesn’t find the need to tell Mark that he did his research on what happened and made sure that idiot went to jail for as long as the laws would allow. What just happened must’ve brought back enough unpleasant memories, and Donghyuck doesn’t need to rehash them aloud.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead, carefully picking his words. Mark doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even turn to look at Donghyuck, just curls his fingers tighter around Donghyuck’s hand as his breathing calms. “Mark?” Donghyuck prompts again, and Mark finally turns to make eye contact.

“I—” he starts, but the rest is choked off and he closes his eyes for a moment, getting a better grip on himself. Mark’s heart rate slows down so something a bit more reasonable beneath Donghyuck’s fingers in the time it takes Mark to find two little words. “I’m alright.”

“You sure? Because you don’t look—”

“I’m fine,” Mark snaps, but then sighs, softening as he lets go of Donghyuck’s hand. “Just remembering, that’s all.”

“Alright, let’s get up to your place then,” Donghyuck says, moving on from the heavier subject that Mark clearly doesn’t want to talk about as he steps out of his car. “What floor are you on?”

“Wait, what?” Mark gives a start, opening his own door to look at Donghyuck over the roof of the car. “You’re coming up?”

Donghyuck levels him with a look, one eyebrow raised. “If you can’t make it across the office without needing help, you can’t make it up to your apartment.”

“Is that a challenge?” Mark asks, and Donghyuck shakes his head, popping the trunk to grab the backpack with Mark’s things. 

“On the contrary. It’s a simple, factual statement.”

Mark looks at him with no shortness of contempt, managing to limp all the way around the car before he nearly collapses.

“You can’t push me around like this,” he sneers. “I won’t let it happen.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at that.



Donghyuck pushes Mark back against the penthouse door, their teeth clacking together as Mark’s head hits the surface behind him hard enough to make him wince into Donghyuck’s mouth. In retaliation, he tangles his fingers into Donghyuck’s hair, ruining the styling as he tugs hard enough to make Donghyuck stumble backward, breaking the kiss. His chin tilts up in a vain attempt to increase the slack of Mark’s grip, inadvertently leaving access to the column of his neck.

There’s no time for Donghyuck to react before Mark’s diving forward, lips and teeth on Donghyuck’s exposed skin above his collar, sucking harshly down to the base of his throat where he yanks Donghyuck’s tie out of its impeccable windsor knot to bite down. He can feel Mark’s lips curve into a smile against his skin when it draws a gasp out of his throat.

“Mark,” Donghyuck hisses, annoyed. “Open the fucking door.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Lee,” Mark replies, his breath hot on Donghyuck’s skin, his fingers tightening their hold in Donghyuck’s hair. 

“If you want this to keep going in the trajectory you set, we need a horizontal surface. For the sake of both your back and your leg, I’m not inclined to fuck you on the hallway floor,” Donghyuck snips back, putting his hands on Mark’s shoulders to shove away from his grip. He’s panting and his neck stings, but seeing how swollen and red Mark’s lips are, the mottled red and purple spots along his own neck, makes it all worth it. Victory runs hot through his veins, and he smiles wide.

“You’re not going to be fucking me anywhere.” Mark crosses his arms, leaning back against the door with his chin raised. It’s a poor facade at just trying to ease the pressure on his right leg. “I’ll take you right here against this door if you don’t keep your attitude in check.” He straightens up after he finishes, using the barely-decipherable height difference between them to his advantage for the hundredth time. The way he does it must hurt, but he doesn’t let it show.

Donghyuck’s sick of it all — he’s sick of Mark acting like he’s above him, he’s sick of Mark’s ego, he’s sick of Mark not already being a disheveled, whining mess under him. For the first time, though, Donghyuck finds himself with the power to do something about it, and he fully intends to use that leverage to its full potential.

It takes two steps for his chest to be pressed up against Mark’s, and in one smooth motion, he’s stooping down to grip Mark by his thighs. He lifts him up fast enough that Mark lets out an undignified squeak when his feet leave the ground, his hands flying up to grasp at Donghyuck’s shoulders to give him stability. Donghyuck has him pinned between his chest and the door, Mark’s legs around his waist, and unable to get the leverage to retaliate: just where Donghyuck wants him. He takes one of his hands from under Mark’s leg and uses it to take Mark’s chin, pinching it stiffly between his thumb and forefinger and moving it so their gazes meet.

“Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to put in the alarm code to the door right now, and then we’ll duke it out in the apartment. If you don’t, you remain in danger of me fucking you right here, right now, spreading you open on my cock in the middle of your gaudy penthouse hallway where any of your neighbors can open their doors to see you whining for more, calling out my name because that’s all you can think of when you’re stuffed so full of me you can barely fuckin’ breathe.” Donghyuck leans close, his lips nearly brushing the shell of Mark’s ear as he speaks slowly, making sure every syllable comes out sweet as syrup. 

He fully intends to make good on his threat if Mark doesn’t comply because he really wouldn’t mind watching Mark fall apart right here, pinned to his door, feet scrambling to touch the floor, thighs trembling in Donghyuck’s palms.

In an unprecedented and wise decision from Mark, he reaches to the side and punches in the code on the doorhandle’s keypad without ever breaking their eye contact. Donghyuck nearly drops Mark when the door clicks open and swings open behind Mark’s back, but he stays upright and securely in Donghyuck’s arms. Their lips are already connecting again when Donghyuck kicks the door shut behind them, uncaring of the way the slam vibrates the walls.

Mark squirms down from Donghyuck’s grip when they reach the kitchen — or, what Donghyuck can only assume is the kitchen because it’s so dark he can barely see. He lets Mark’s backpack fall to the floor there, careful not to let it drop too hard because of the computer inside, but it’s hard not to rush when Mark’s grabbing him by his collar again and shoving their mouths together greedily.

Donghyuck lets himself be maneuvered a bit in the unfamiliar space, but realizes his mistake the moment Mark grabs him by the hips and hoists him up onto the countertop. Mark shifts his weight onto his good side so he can stand more comfortably between Donghyuck’s spread legs. His hands are everywhere: Donghyuck’s thighs, sides, shoulders, rucking up his dress shirt along the way, settling back on his bare waist when fabric no longer bars their path.

Their kiss never ceases, lips becoming more bruised and spit-slicked by the second. Donghyuck loops his ankles around Mark, heels digging into his lower back to pull him even closer. Mark gasps in pain, hands jumping to Donghyuck’s thighs to brace himself as he stumbles forward. Eager hands reach forward, ripping Mark’s shirt open and sending tiny buttons flying across the kitchen as Donghyuck lets his hands travel the expanse of Mark’s chest and broad back, smoothing his palms down to grip at his tiny little waist hard enough to leave bruises.

Mark braces his forehead on Donghyuck’s shoulder, biting into the fabric of his suit jacket when Donghyuck reaches down to palm at the front of Mark’s slacks with one hand.

“We doing this here or in your bed?” Donghyuck asks quietly, nipping at the hinge of Mark’s jaw. “Decide now because you’re not going to move once I start.”

Mark just huffs out a laugh, not heeding the warning. Instead, he tugs Donghyuck down from the counter by his hips, spinning him around to press Donghyuck’s ass to his hips. Mark grinds them together, his hands tightening around Donghyuck’s waist enough to make him gasp wetly, bracing himself on the counter in front of him with his forearms.

From what Donghyuck can tell, Mark’s rather well endowed, and there’s a moment where he’s almost tempted to just let Mark fuck him right there over the kitchen counter without question or hesitation.

Keyword: almost.

Instead, he straightens up and cranes his neck around to connect their mouths in another searing kiss, deep enough to distract Mark so his grip loosens and Donghyuck can spin them around. 

It’s Mark’s turn to gasp when Donghyuck grabs him by the thighs again, hoisting him up into his arms. Mark digs the pads of his fingertips into Donghyuck’s shoulders: a warning, although Donghyuck isn’t entirely sure what for.

“Where’s the bedroom?” Donghyuck manages to ask between kisses.

“Put me down and I’ll show you,” Mark bites back, tugging Donghyuck’s bottom lip between his teeth.

“Sweetheart, I’m starting to think you like me picking you up like this.” Donghyuck’s grin is blinding, and Mark just yanks on his tie to pull them into another kiss. He resolves that Mark is going to be absolutely no help and he’s all on his own to find his way to Mark’s bedroom.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take too long to find it since it’s the first door Donghyuck tries, but Mark’s pulling out just about every trick in the book to keep him distracted: bruising kisses on every inch of free skin, whispering the absolute filthiest of things, tugging on Donghyuck’s tie like it’s a damn leash, rutting his hips up against Donghyuck. All of these result in the journey taking longer than necessary since Donghyuck has to push Mark up against every vaguely vertical surface to kiss him against. Not a bad way to spend time, all things considered.

Mark manages to undo Donghyuck’s tie and fling it off just as they stumble into the bedroom, scrambling to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands before giving that up and just ripping it open like Donghyuck had done with Mark’s. Mark lost his shoes somewhere between the kitchen and here, so Donghyuck has to step on the heels of his and kick them off before unceremoniously depositing Mark on the bed.

He doesn’t let go of Donghyuck, though, and successfully takes him down with. Donghyuck lets out an undignified squeak as he braces his hands on either side of Mark’s head to keep from crushing Mark. Without disconnecting their lips, Mark works Donghyuck’s jacket and torn shirt down his shoulders and throws them off into the darkness of the room.

“Lube,” Donghyuck pants between kisses. “Condoms. Where?”

Mark rolls over ending face down, caged under Donghyuck’s body as he reaches toward his bedside table drawer, presumably to grab lube and condoms, but Donghyuck is too busy pressing kisses down every notch of Mark’s spine from the base of his skull to the small of his back where he presses his thumbs into the little dimples in the skin there. Mark rolls back over as soon as Donghyuck shows intent to keep moving his mouth lower, pulling him back up to meld their mouths together once again.

Donghyuck laughs lightly into Mark’s lips when he notes that Mark’s holding an unused bottle of lube and an unopened box of condoms. 

“Expecting someone?” he chuckles. “You’re quite prepared.”

Mark bites a little harsher on his lip for that one before pulling back, shoving the items into Donghyuck’s chest. 

“Just for that little joke, I’m going to make you prep me.” It’s meant to be a punishment, some sort of recompense for Donghyuck’s words, but all it does is make him grin and feel rather pleased with himself.

“So you do want me to fuck you,” he sing-songs, teasing. Mark seethes at that, opening his mouth for what would be a scathing retort, but Donghyuck cups the bulge in his slacks, successfully directing the blood causing the angry blush on his cheeks to his stiffening cock.

“You drive me up the fucking wall sometimes, you know that?” Mark asks, clearly meaning it to be rhetorical, but Donghyuck’s feeling rather antagonistic, so he carries on annoying Mark.

“I can fuck you up the wall, too, if you’d like,” he offers, only half-joking.

Mark groans, irritated, tugging on Donghyuck’s pants, “If you don’t get a start on it right now, then so help me I will retract the offer.”

Before Mark can blink, Donghyuck is already whipping off Mark’s belt and working the pants down his legs before standing and shimmying out of his own. Mark looks on, humming in approval at what he sees before grabbing at Donghyuck’s thighs, sending him toppling back onto the bed and having to kick off his pants from where they’re still caught around one ankle. One of Donghyuck’s thighs ends up lodged between Mark’s, most likely on purpose because Mark starts rolling his hips against it like there’s no tomorrow, finesse and grace ever-present in every move he makes.

“You’re so damn impatient,” Donghyuck snorts, tossing the condoms beside him while he uncaps the lube, pouring some out onto his fingers. “Ready?”

“Didn’t you just say that I was being impatient? And now you have the fucking audacity to ask if I’m ready?” Mark scoffs, raising a brow and looking just a little too put-together still for Donghyuck’s taste.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and presses his index finger to Mark’s rim, knowing the lube is still cold and trying to get a reaction out of Mark since he didn’t warm it up at all before he rubbed it on Mark’s hot skin. True to expectation, Mark hisses, closing his eyes and arching up off the mattress, his spine forming a beautiful curve that Donghyuck wants nothing more than to press kisses along again. He can’t from their positioning right now — Donghyuck balanced above Mark with only one hand pressed to the bed in support — so he settles for sucking hickies onto Mark’s chest as he finally presses the first finger in.

Mark moans, falling back onto the bed as he opens up absolutely beautifully under Donghyuck’s ministrations. It doesn’t take very long for him to lube up and add a second finger with Mark taking everything Donghyuck gives so devastatingly well. He scissors carefully, stroking along Mark’s soft walls that convulse around his fingers when he angles them just right.

It’s only now that he glances over to see Mark’s injured leg, and can count the various faded scars from mid-thigh down to his ankle. He wonders how many of them were from the accident and how many from the numerous surgeries he had to undergo to reassemble his limb. He sits back on his haunches and carefully traces over them, knowing a frown has etched itself onto his features. Mark has to be in a lot more pain from these than he likes to let on, but Donghyuck doesn’t get to think any further about it because Mark’s pawing at his wrist and speaking coherent words again.

“Won’t you just fuck me already?” Mark growls, impatiently rutting down his hips on Donghyuck’s fingers, clearly too distracted to understand what Donghyuck is doing — and that’s perfectly okay with him.

And holy shit does Donghyuck want to, and rather badly at that. All he wants to do it fuck the scathing words right out of Mark’s head until he can only whimper Donghyuck’s name and clutch at the sheets, fuck him hard and fast until the entire bed splinters, fuck him until dawn shows up and then keep going because he’ll never get a chance like this again.

But he can’t. Mark isn’t ready. No matter how many ways he wants to absolutely blow out Mark’s back and make him unable to walk straight for the rest of the weekend, Donghyuck doesn’t want to cause any more pain than returning the amount Mark gives to him. Besides, the teasing is rather enjoyable, and watching Mark half fall apart with nothing but two of Donghyuck’s fingers inside of him is one of the most exquisite sights he’ll ever lay his eyes upon.

For the simple purpose of wanting to spite him, Donghyuck completely ignores Mark’s words, instead curving his fingers just right and presses down harshly. Mark cries out, his back arching off the sheets in a perfect curve, in desperate search of both more and less stimulation at once. Donghyuck presses the palm of his heel to the curve of Mark’s hip, forcing him back down on the bed to accept every movement of his fingers with absolute clarity.

He eases up on Mark’s prostate, letting him calm down for a moment before he works a third finger into him, continuing to spread him open. He watches in no short of fascination how greedily Mark accepts Donghyuck’s fingers, pulling them in and holding on tight as they work him a little wider in preparation for something just as thick. It’s in part to watch Mark shake and tremble, finally at a vulnerable position after so many years of having all of those stone wall built up sky-high, but it’s also because he really, truly, doesn’t want to hurt Mark — not in this way, no matter how much they say they hate each other, not when Donghyuck knows firsthand how painful it is to not get enough prep.

Mark doesn’t really seem to grasp Donghyuck’s train of logic because it takes less than a sharp inhale after Mark tugs him up by his hair for a kiss that a toned leg is hooking over his hip and flipping them over. Mark seats himself on top of Donghyuck’s hips happily, satisfied with himself.

“I’ve had more than enough of that from you,” Mark chides, tone all high-and-mighty again. Donghyuck opens his mouth to take him down a notch, but all he can get out is a wet gasp when a rough palm grasps his cock, stroking from base to tip, a thumb digging into the slit. Donghyuck hisses, his head falling back onto the pillow, weakly grasping for Mark’s wrist that’s twisting wickedly in long, purposeful strokes. Mark swats his hand out of the way once before having to resort to holding it down to the mattress when Donghyuck tries to make a grab for him again. 

“Mark, you haven’t—”

“I know what I can take, Donghyuck,” Mark reminds, tone clipped. “You don’t know me like this, so stop pretending to.”

There’s one more pump, and then the sound of foil tearing. Donghyuck doesn’t even know when Mark reached over to grab a condom from where they were discarded on the bed, but he can’t really think straight when Mark’s carefully rolling it on, painstakingly deliberate and methodical. As he is about most things, Mark’s terribly efficient about getting fucked now that he actually has the power to, quickly slicking up a palm with lube to slick them both up a bit better once more before he works Donghyuck’s tip past his rim and sinks down.

“You’re going to hurt your leg like this,” Donghyuck protests, his free hand flying to steady Mark on his hip.

“Irrelevant,” Mark says through gritted teeth. “I know what I want and I want it now.” His fingers curl into Donghyuck’s palm, white-tipped, where they were holding him down before. All it takes is the barest shift from Donghyuck to have them lacing their fingers together, and Mark’s so distracted that he doesn’t fight it. The process is slow, Mark painstakingly taking him in, inch by inch until his ass is flush with Donghyuck’s hips and they both let out the air they didn’t realize they’d been holding in.

“Look, Mark,” Donghyuck starts, moving his hand from Mark’s hip to his injured leg, running his fingers over the scars. “It’s fine if you like pain, but I’m not letting you irritate an injury for the sake of sex.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Mark pants, sweat beading on his forehead as he stubbornly stays put, just sitting there, fully seated on him like the most irritating cockwarmer to ever exist. It makes Donghyuck pause in his ministrations, a smile growing on his face.

“Good to know you think I’m big,” Donghyuck teases, squeezing Mark’s thigh none-too-gently.

“Oh, fuck you,” Mark groans, brow furrowing as a drop of sweat travels down the column of his neck. Donghyuck can’t take his eyes away from it as he speaks.

“No, I’m fucking you.” Donghyuck emphasizes the last word with a thrust of his hips. Mark gasps, mouth dropping open. It’s partly in pleasure, but the pain of making his leg move like that must be overwhelming because there’s a gleam in his eye and his free hand flies to his knee without hesitation.

They stay there for another long moment, just looking at each other, waiting to see who’s going to make the next move. When Mark tries to fuck himself down on Donghyuck’s cock again, the grimace is too much, and he stops right away, clenching his fingers around Donghyuck’s where they’re interlocked. He’s in a lot of pain, but the absolute idiot is too prideful to admit it. This will probably just keep causing himself pain in a very non-sexy way if he endeavors to continue — which he surely will because that’s the only thing Mark knows how to do. Carry on until he’s physically unable to, pushed long past all reasonable limits.

An intervention has to be staged, and Donghyuck’s more than happy to take on the challenge. Gripping Mark by the waist, he hauls him off of his cock and nearly tosses him onto the empty side of the bed. Mark, confused, manages to kick the now-opened box of condoms on the floor, but that’s the least of either of their concerns at the moment.

Before Mark can even open his mouth to protest, Donghyuck’s there on top of him, settling between his legs with that ever-present cocky smile quirking at the corner of his lips. He grips Mark’s calves, hoisting his legs up until they rest over his shoulders, pressing a devastatingly gentle kiss to the inside of Mark’s injured knee. Mark shudders when he feels Donghyuck brush over his length with a teasing hand that he immediately bats away, probably hoping Donghyuck couldn’t feel him quivering. He could — he still can.

“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it my way,” Donghyuck says, leaning forward, running his fingers over Mark’s collarbone.

“And your way is…?” Mark raises an eyebrow, but the sharp edge is lost in the soft blush that decorates the top of his chest where Donghyuck traces the pad of a finger, and the bridge of his nose where just the barest hint of freckles rest prettily, the way his breathing has quickened and his eyes are wide and dark. 

“Any way that won’t hurt you.” Donghyuck tips his head to the side curiously, watching the way Mark’s eyes narrow and roll — Mark’s annoyed at Donghyuck’s coddling, and Donghyuck’s just annoyed at how hot an annoyed Mark looks underneath him.

“How chivalrous of you,” Mark mocks snidely, wiggling his hips impatiently “Perhaps it isn’t dead after a— ah!”

Donghyuck, thoroughly sick of Mark’s attitude, thrusts in and successfully shuts him up, at least for a moment. He doesn’t go fast, per se, but it’s not quite as torturously slow as he’d meant to take it either. It’s easy to forget how being around Mark lets all of Donghyuck’s self-control slowly slip away.

Mark lets his head fall back, uselessly grabbing at the sheets, clenching and unclenching his fingers in the soft fabric. The way he positively sucks Donghyuck in is unbelievable, how warm and wet he is, how every inch of his cock is gripped in that velvety heat, and Donghyuck thinks that he could die here and that would be fine.

When he finally bottoms out, his hips pressed flush against Mark’s, he pauses to let them both adjust. That turns out to be the wrong thing to do because Mark tips his head up to level him with a glare.

“If you wanted to fuck me so badly, then actually do it,” he grits out.

“Yes, your majesty,” Donghyuck mocks before sliding out and pushing back in with more force than is strictly necessary.

Mark chokes, breath hitching in his chest with every thrust Donghyuck gives, his fingers tightening and relaxing intermittently in the sheets, wrinkling them all to high heaven — as if them literally fucking wasn’t doing a good enough job of that already.

“Stop holding those noises back,” Mark growls after a moment. It’s only now that Donghyuck notices how his bottom lip is trapped between his teeth. “I want to hear just how wrecked you are right now.”

Donghyuck can’t hold back the whimper he gives when he lets his lip go from the vice grip his teeth had, and it makes Mark chuckle low and dark, much too satisfied and smug for the position he’s in. The fact that Mark is under him being fucked and still can manage to boss Donghyuck around is simultaneously the hottest, most annoying, and most on-brand thing Mark could ever do. 

“C’mon, Lee,” Mark urges, hands grappling for Donghyuck’s ass to pull him in sharper and faster. “Harder. I know you can.”

“I don’t want to hurt—”

Donghyuck’s words are promptly cut off by Mark reaching up and tugging Donghyuck down by his hair. He finds that he doesn’t mind the pain, but that’s something he can unpack at a later date because Mark’s lips are brushing his ear, both of them jolting in unison with every thrust Donghyuck gives.

“I want you to break me,” Mark murmurs, voice sensual and so, so soft.

It’s despicable, really, how fast Donghyuck gives in. He groans, taking Mark’s wrists in one hand and pinning them above his head, and starts ramming into Mark with everything he has. Mark moans, high and sweet and clear, head lolling to the side as he places absent kisses into the crook of Donghyuck’s elbow, curving his body to fit more neatly under Donghyuck’s.

Mark’s nearly bent in half, his knees up knocking at his shoulders with every clash of their hips, calves slowly starting to slip off Donghyuck’s shoulders because their chests are nearly touching. Donghyuck moves his hands from where they’d been pinning Mark’s down to let Mark’s legs fall wide open, hips and thighs flexing as they settle into the stretch. It apparently creates some new angle because the next time Donghyuck pistons in, Mark’s hands fly to Donghyuck’s back, digging his nails into his shoulder blades as he cries out.

“Fuck, Mark,” Donghyuck moans, feeling the periodic clench around his cock as Mark tries to adjust, his thighs falling farther open in the process. He’s a lot more flexible than Donghyuck would’ve ever thought, but he can’t honestly say he’s disappointed at this new discovery in the slightest. His head is already reeling with ideas of how he can use this to his advantage, but with the way Mark’s eyes have glazed over and the little whines and moans that he’s letting out tell Donghyuck he’s too close to experiment with any of that, and it’ll have to be left to his fantasies. This isn’t ever going to happen again, Donghyuck is sure of that much, mostly because there’s no way Mark will ever let this slide another time.

That thought in mind, he ducks down to capture Mark’s lips in another all-consuming kiss, just relishing in the opportunity of being this close. Not minding the sweat beading up on his forehead, Donghyuck doubles his efforts, and Mark tosses his head back and nearly screams as Donghyuck finds the perfect angle to hit Mark’s prostate dead-on, raking his nails down Donghyuck’s back as he tries and copes with everything he’s feeling. Donghyuck licks and sucks down Mark’s neck and chest, wrapping a hand around Mark’s flushed and previously untouched cock to bring him to the edge.

“Donghyuck, Hyuck, shit, please!” Mark’s words are a jumbled mess, but every time Donghyuck catches his own name tumbling from Mark’s lips, satisfaction only adds to the heat coiling in his gut. “Please, please, I’m close, Hyuck, I wanna—I gotta—Can I…?”

It takes Donghyuck a moment to process that Mark is asking for permission to come when neither of them had established anything relating to the sort before they started — which, now that he thinks about it, absolutely nothing was established before they just started going at it, but that doesn’t really matter now. He wants to tease, to tell Mark that he never said he couldn’t, but Mark looks too precious like this, too vulnerable, wide eyes glossy and mouth parted just barely. He looks like the angel Donghyuck knows he isn’t.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck replies, pressing kisses across the curve of Mark’s jaw until their mouths are reconnected. “Yeah you can baby, come for me.”

He doesn’t even notice how close he himself is until Mark is pulling away from the kiss, coming with a shout that’s muffled into the side of Donghyuck’s neck, spilling all over Donghyuck’s fist and their stomachs, even some managing to splatter over onto the sheets. Donghyuck can’t bring himself to care because he’s tumbling over the precipice right after Mark, moving his hips a little bit, grinding in as he keeps fisting Mark’s cock to ride them both through their highs.

Mark goes boneless against the sheets, panting, eyes still wide and sparkling and stupidly pretty, dark hair tangled and sweaty as he murmurs Donghyuck’s name absently. Donghyuck presses another kiss to Mark’s lips before collapsing onto Mark’s chest, forehead resting on his sternum as he wipes his fingers on a clean section of the sheets.

Between the cum and sweat and lube, they’re both pretty disgusting right now, but Donghyuck couldn’t give less of a flying fuck because Mark’s there and warm and wrapping his arms around Donghyuck’s back and nuzzling into the top of his head. Donghyuck knows he should get up and find something to clean them both at least a little bit, but he’s somewhat sure Mark’s already halfway to sleep — if he isn’t there already — and he isn’t particularly keen on sacrificing their intimate position.

At this point, if he gets up and ruins the moment, he might not even be allowed to stay the night. Which would be a total dick move on Mark’s part, but Donghyuck isn’t sure if he’d put it past him. At least not yet.

Unfortunately, the gross feeling of being in a used condom wins out in the end and Donghyuck has to extract himself from Mark in all senses of the word. Regretfully leaving Mark there in bed, he ties off the condom and throws it away in the trash can at the side of the dresser on the opposite wall of the room, grabbing the whole box of tissues from there while he’s at it because he doesn’t know where the bathroom is to grab a washcloth.

Mark must be really out of it because he puts up no fight as Donghyuck wipes him down gently before turning his attention on himself for just a moment. In fact, he even tugs on Donghyuck’s wrist with tired fingers, and Donghyuck succumbs easily, falling back onto the bed easily. 

“You’re eager,” Donghyuck manages to murmur into Mark’s shoulder, leaving another kiss there that makes Mark shudder.

“And you’re aggravating,” Mark replies, voice rough.

Donghyuck snorts at that, but doesn’t say anything else, just lets a hand come up to rest on the center of Mark’s chest, rubbing little circles into the skin there next to where his cheek is pillowed. Mark tosses his injured leg over Donghyuck’s hip for a more comfortable position, and then they relax: no more moving, no more speaking, just matching each other’s deep breaths.

The room is warm and so is Mark, leading to his eyes drooping quickly once the silence settles. His fears of not staying the night fly right out the window, leaving his mind blissfully empty and more content than he’s been in quite a while.


Donghyuck wakes up the next morning when the sun is already high in the sky, the golden light of morning replaced by the bright white of early afternoon as it streams in through the open, glass-paned doors in the master bedroom of Mark’s penthouse. The curtains that frame the opening to the balcony ripple gently and Donghyuck can just barely make out the sounds of the bustling city far below. It’s a peaceful way to wake up, but Donghyuck suspects that’s probably mostly due to the fact that Mark is nowhere to be seen.

The sheets to his sides are cool, meaning that he’s been the only one in bed for quite some time. He takes two tries to sit up, the first time unsuccessful because of how badly his muscles ache.

Wincing, Donghyuck swings his legs off of the bed, having to take a moment extra to untangle himself from the sheets. A bit shaky on his feet, he nearly stumbles over to the open walk-in closet on the other side of the bedroom — he figures Mark won’t miss a pair of sweatpants, especially since Mark was the one who ripped apart most of his suit last night.

With minimal digging, he manages to find the comfiest looking ones and slides them on. It’s nice to have some clothing on now. Intending to leave the closet, he turns back around toward the bedroom, but catches sight of his back in the angled mirrors that furnish the far corner of it. Red scratches decorate his tan skin, and he can see the crescent marks from where Mark dug his fingernails into Donghyuck’s shoulders.

He wants to laugh. Mark just had to leave something behind, didn’t he?

As he exits the closet, he takes an extended look out the balcony as the city skyline. It looks different from this part of the city, and Donghyuck smugly thinks that he likes the view from his penthouse better. To further his amusement, he notes that his tie is still on the floor in the middle of the hallway where Mark had flung it carelessly yesterday as he steps out of the bedroom.

The kitchen isn’t difficult to find since it’s just around the corner, and he finally gets to take a good look around Mark’s place now that he doesn’t have a whining co-CEO in his arms to push against every vertical surface possible to kiss him against before finally making it to the bedroom.

It’s nice — a lot nicer than Donghyuck would strictly like to admit. Large windows, modern yet minimalist furnishing and decoration, an open floorplan spacious enough for a couple of people to comfortably live in. It’s only for Mark, though, and Donghyuck can’t help but snort because having this much room when he doesn’t need it is quite on brand for him and his pretentious, entitled self.

Hunger overwhelms the need to explore the space some more, so Donghyuck pads into the kitchen, pleasantly surprised when he finds the tile floor to be heated and not stone-cold beneath his bare feet. Mark’s probably gone off somewhere, possibly even out of the penthouse, to avoid Donghyuck this morning, so he makes the assumption that Mark won’t mind him snagging a bit of cereal, or whatever Donghyuck can find in Mark’s kitchen because it turns out to be a little barren.

After just a fraction too long, Donghyuck does dig up some generic, store-brand corn flakes and a carton of almond milk — he now has a vague memory of Mark having to order something special during business events because of lactose intolerance. He pours them in a bowl to scarf down before he has to go collect his clothes and find his car keys so he can head back to his own place and take a shower, which he is sorely in need of.

Just as he’s thinking of how nice it will be to spend a few minutes under a hot stream of water, the door across the hall from the bedroom opens and Donghyuck physically startles at the sound, then a second time at the sight.

Mark walks out of what turns out to be a bathroom, wearing nothing but sweatpants similar to the ones that Donghyuck stole slung across his hips. It draws Donghyuck’s attention there, and he finds himself trying to match up which of his fingers left which dark bruises there, and he trails his eyes up slowly, counting the hickies up his chest and neck. He feels an odd sense of satisfaction, seeing the remnants of himself and their night together scattered across Mark’s otherwise perfect skin like that. A vague thought makes him curious as to whether Mark will feel the same looking at him.

He doesn’t see Donghyuck right away, his head ducked down as he rubs a towel vigorously on his scalp to dry his hair. When he finally does flick his head up, it takes him a moment to register that Donghyuck is standing there on the other side of the island, a spoon with cornflakes halfway raised to his mouth. Donghyuck has a beat to recover his surprise and affix his expression into something more along the lines of amusement, or so he hopes.

The reaction Mark gives is almost comical, honestly. He stumbles a bit, stubbing his toe on the wall and dropping the towel back into the bathroom, quietly cursing to himself as he squints back at Donghyuck who simply raises a hand in greeting. Mark digs around in his pockets for a moment until he produces a pair of circular, wire-rimmed glasses that he puts on. He blinks hard a few times, as if disbelieving that Donghyuck is really still there.

“You’re still here,” he says, confirming Donghyuck’s suspicions.

“Indeed I am.”

“I thought you’d be gone.”

“Nah.” Donghyuck sets the spoon back down in the bowl. “I thought I’d stick around a bit longer just to piss you off.”

Mark shrugs. “I’m not pissed off.”

“You sure seemed pissed off last night,” Donghyuck points out, picking up his spoon to take another bite of cereal, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

“So did you,” Mark replies simply, moving around the counter to snatch the box of cereal from Donghyuck so he can pour himself a bowl. When he digs into it like that with a spoon, Donghyuck is appalled — he just eats it dry.

“You’re a heathen.”

“Depends on the perspective.” Mark shrugs again, unbothered. He’s back to that cool, untouchable facade that Donghyuck hates so much, and he’s determined to break it down again like he did last night. He’s discovered that he quite likes the Mark that fights back — the one that leaves scratches and bruises and is full of biting retorts — much more than the Mark that simply stays aloof. At least Donghyuck knows how to deal with the anger, but when Mark stops demonstrating any emotions, it makes it significantly more difficult to get a read on him.

They don’t talk for a long moment, Donghyuck having finished his cereal and resorted to twirling the spoon between his fingers while he waits for Mark to finish as well. It’s edging the cusp of domestic, the two of them standing next to each other in the kitchen, wearing identical sweatpants and sporting similar bruises, eating the same cereal while the bright, midday sun warms them. Donghyuck quickly decides that he doesn’t like it — not in the slightest.

“So…” he starts, gesturing between the two of them with his spoon. “Are we going to talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Mark shoots back, taking another delicate bite, raising an eyebrow. Donghyuck’s blood simmers at that.

“I don’t know, Mark, there’s a lot we could discuss. Where would you like to begin?” Donghyuck explodes, putting his spoon down. “The fact that we hate each other? The fact that we just had sex despite hating each other? The fact that you liked it?”

“Oh, you’re going to be insufferable today, aren’t you?” Mark bristles, setting down his own spoon to cross his arms, cocking his hip against the granite countertop. “First off, yes, we fucked. Second, yes, I happen to like sex, and I received pleasure from what transpired last night, but so did you so that point is irrelevant. Thirdly, it’s quite bold of you to assume how I feel about you in such a drastic and accusatory fashion, now isn’t it?”

Mark and his irritating habit of answering questions with more questions. Two can play at that game.

“So you’re saying that you don’t hate me?”

“I never said that,” Mark denies.

“You implied it.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Mark!” Donghyuck slams a hand down on the edge of the counter, and Mark jumps a bit, his eyes widening behind his glasses. “This is ridiculous and you know it. You’re avoiding the question.”

“It’s quite rational, actually—”

“I’m serious, Mark,” Donghyuck warns, voice lowering. Mark glares back.

“As am I, Donghyuck,” Mark responds, equally threatening. Donghyuck really hates how much he likes the way his name sounds on Mark’s lips.

“So we’re just not going to resolve any of this then?” Donghyuck taps his fingers on the island, impatient as Mark takes his time to mull over his response.

“There’s nothing between us to resolve unless you think otherwise?” Mark levels him with a look before he simply turns on his heel and leaves the room, a gaping Donghyuck and a half-finished bowl of dry cornflakes in his wake.

Donghyuck wants to call after him, but he’s much too frustrated right now, so he decides better of it. It won’t do any of them good to continue arguing when they do more than enough of that in the workplace anyway. Out of nothing but pure spite, he leaves his own dirty bowl and spoon on the countertop, not even bothering to place them in the sink.

He returns to the bedroom, unsure of where Mark went but unsure of whether he really cares or not. He steals a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt, finding it amusing when he has to pair them with his fancy dress shoes that he discarded on the floor of the bedroom in the dark when Mark had still been in his arms. It’s a bit odd to be wearing Mark’s clothes, but there’s also another feeling somewhere down in the pit of his stomach that he can’t identify. Something a little warmer. Donghyuck shoves that right back down where it came from. It hasn’t done them any good in the past, and it sure as hell won’t do them any good now.

In the pocket of his discarded suit jacket he finds his car keys, phone, and wallet, somehow miraculously unharmed. He debates just leaving without telling Mark, slipping out silently without so much as another word exchanged and then everything going back to how it’s supposed to be on Monday. Begrudging coworkers. No more, no less.

When he turns around, though, Mark has already ruined that plan. He’s leaning against the doorframe, still shirtless, bottom lip caught between his teeth and glasses sliding down his nose. Donghyuck clears his throat and Mark looks up at him, looking so tired Donghyuck’s actually concerned. His stance is favoring his bad leg again, but Donghyuck knows it isn’t the time to ask about it.

“Look,” Mark begins slowly. “We can just pretend last night never happened. You dropped me off and left, that’s it. I know it’s what you want, and now everything can do back to normal.” His voice gets soft at the end, like he’s nervous about saying it. Donghyuck can’t possibly fathom why.

“Sounds great,” Donghyuck agrees, moving to leave. Something in Mark’s eyes dims as Donghyuck passes him on his way into the hallway. “I’m going to head out. See you on Monday.”

Donghyuck makes it all the way to the door, swinging it open before a hand is on his shoulder, whirling him back around. He doesn’t even get the chance to say anything, merely getting out a rather undignified noise of surprise before hands cup his cheeks and lips press against his.

He’s sure he has terrible morning breath, but Mark doesn’t seem to care as he pulls him closer. There’s something in the kiss that Donghyuck can’t place, laced with a tinge of desperation that Donghyuck finds himself reflecting as his hands fly to Mark’s hips to steady himself. Mark hisses into the kiss when Donghyuck presses on his bruises, but he doesn’t back down for another long moment.

When Mark finally does pull back, his expression is unreadable. Donghyuck opens his mouth to say something, to say anything, but the movement seems to snap Mark’s attention back to the present and he promptly shoves Donghyuck out the front door and closes it behind him.

It’s not worth knocking again because there’s no way that Mark would open back up. Not after whatever that just was.

He can’t stop thinking about it all the way back to his own home on the other side of downtown, or when he’s in the shower, or when he finds himself wearing Mark’s shirt again afterwards. There’s something there to unpack, to analyze and come up with a good answer for, but Donghyuck is terrified. Mark must be, too. 

When he’s folding up Mark’s jeans, prepared to use them as an excuse to drop by his place on a later day, something tumbles out of his pocket onto the floor. Donghyuck bends down to pick it up, and finds that it’s a flashdrive. It’s labeled with “DL” in bold lettering, and Donghyuck rewinds to the memory of Mark’s hand briefly touching his hip before shoving him out of the penthouse.

He laughs to himself, turning it over in his palm as he plods across his bedroom to where his computer is sitting on his desk. It doesn’t take long for him to boot it up and plug the drive in, surprised to find only a couple of files.

It’s a series of documents outlining the next steps in a plan for the company as a whole. They’re the same documents that Donghyuck had gotten so pissed about not being a part of creating or signing last night. As he reads through everything, he approves of what he sees, and then instantly hates how he now understands the annoyingly infallible logic of that partnership Mark had made. It doesn’t make him any less unhappy that Mark didn’t consult him in the first place, but at least he knows there’s a half-decent rationale behind it.

What really does surprise him about the whole thing is the end of the last document. There, sitting on the final page, has a line for Donghyuck’s signature right next to Mark’s, already pre-dated for Monday when Donghyuck assumes that Mark would’ve approached him about it.

He leans back in his chair, arms crossed, contemplating.

Mark’s always full of surprises, Donghyuck supposes, and now he’s intrigued more than ever to find out more. He’s a bit of a wonder, honestly. Sure, Mark knows every single way to piss Donghyuck off and never fails to be the most pretentious person in the room and has a bigger ego than everyone in that corporate office combined, but there’s so much more to him than meets the eye.

Beneath all those biting remarks and sharp angles, there’s something more.

And Donghyuck is determined to see it all for himself.