Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Good morning, Doyoung-hyung,” Donghyuck tells Doyoung when he comes into the kitchen that morning. Covered in a sweatshirt much too large, Donghyuck can barely make out Doyoung’s actual features, but can tell from the tired sigh that it’s most definitely him. That, and everyone else is already up and out of the dorm—save for Mark, who just came to collect his takeout at the door before returning to Taeyong’s bedroom.

It’s fairly obvious it’s actually not a particularly good morning. Doyoung has gotten plenty of sleep and still looks tired, not the kind that a good night’s rest can fix—he’s exhausted, emotionally drained, and after the weekend they’ve had Donghyuck isn’t surprised.

Doyoung’s eyes are still a little puffy, Donghyuck can’t help but notice as he sits down across from him, perhaps from sleep—or from last night.

“Are you gonna sulk all day?” Donghyuck asks.

Doyoung pushes his hood up over his hair, squinting out the last remnants of sleep from his eyes. He says nothing, and Donghyuck takes that as a yes.

“Let’s go out,” Donghyuck suggests. Doyoung looks at him up and down, like he’s suggesting something completely crazy. “Come on, you look terrible. Getting some fresh air is good for you.”

Doyoung still doesn’t budge, looking at Donghyuck unimpressed. “What do you want to do today?”

“Nothing,” Doyoung whines.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you want to go?” Donghyuck poses, as he unlocks his phone to start browsing for ideas.

This question does get Doyoung’s attention, his brow furrowing as he thinks it over. He glances out the window, gray skies outside having very little to offer.

“I wanna see the sea,” Doyoung decides.

“Wow,” Donghyuck says, keeping his eyes trained on his phone as he types, “you’re not making it easy for me, are you?”

“Donghyuck-ah, I don’t want to do anything—” Doyoung protests.

“We could go to Jeju,” Donghyuck suggests casually, successfully cutting Doyoung off.

“What,” Doyoung baffles, with what almost looks like a smile, a surprised scoff. Donghyuck doesn’t find his suggestion very funny, actually feels quite clever for coming up with something Doyoung wouldn’t say no to—something they might just be able to pull off, knowing they have two days off. “You’re serious.”

“Deadly,” Donghyuck says. “We could be on a plane by lunch, eat seafood, we’ll get a hotel with a sea view, you could see the sea as much as you want to.”

“I…” Doyoung starts, seemingly perplexed—but his eyes light up, and there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It’s working, already, Donghyuck thinks as he starts to fill in the details for their flight on the website.

“That a yes?” Donghyuck asks, not lifting his eyes from the screen.

“Are you sure we can just—” of course Doyoung being Doyoung he doesn’t do spontaneous, not unless Donghyuck uses every charm he has to lure it out of him. It’s working, because the reluctance in his voice isn’t a genuine concern—more a curious one, like he’s definitely considering it.

“Yes,” Donghyuck cuts him off, rolling his eyes. “It’s just two days, come on, live a little—”

“I—” Doyoung starts to object, but his voice is wavering, and Donghyuck knows what that means—it means he’s won, and that he’s telling Doyoung to pack a bag right after he makes him breakfast.

**

Donghyuck is not a planner. There’s never really been a need to, not when he spent most of his life being micromanaged by a whole team of people—he doesn’t really do the things Doyoung normally does whenever they go somewhere, doesn’t plan activities around schedules—but for Doyoung, he’s willing to make an effort.

Booking a flight, making hotel reservations and looking into local restaurants they could eat at isn’t that difficult. He does some of it in the car on the way to the airport, while Doyoung looks out the window, decisively leaving his phone alone.

The flight is short, and after five minutes of bickering about who the middle armrest belongs to, Doyoung promptly nods off with his head on Donghyuck’s shoulder (of course only after claiming the middle armrest for himself). Donghyuck lets him sleep, spending the rest of the flight browsing through pictures on his phone.

When they land, Doyoung still looks as tired as he did that same morning—except with some life back in his eyes, glistening as he looks out the window at the beautiful scenery outside. Doyoung’s lucky he’s cute—else Donghyuck would have most definitely fought him for the window seat.

They don’t have to wait for luggage—a carry-on was more than sufficient to hold one change of clothes and something to sleep in, and instead head straight for the car rental. Not until they’re standing by the desk, waiting for the receptionist to sort out the paperwork does Doyoung finally look at his phone—something he usually can’t seem to go five minutes without.

Doyoung can’t help it, Donghyuck thinks. He has to micromanage some aspects of his life. Always. Donghyuck knows him well enough to know he can’t just turn it off, not even when they’re on vacation, not even when Doyoung has every reason to let go.

It’s not a sign that he doesn’t trust Donghyuck, it’s just who he is.

“What hotel did you book us?” Doyoung asks eventually when curiosity gets the best of him.

“You’re so damn nosy,” Donghyuck says, but his tone is fond as he hands his phone over to Doyoung. He imagines Doyoung still has to switch off airplane mode, and thinks maybe he won’t want to for a while.

“The presidential suite was taken,” Donghyuck says.

“I don’t want that,” Doyoung points out, and Donghyuck knows that.

“I know,” Donghyuck hums, “so I got us the corner suite with a sea view.”

Doyoung hums approvingly as he looks at the photos on Donghyuck’s phone, while the lady at the desk takes a final look at Doyoung’s license, before returning it with a set of keys.

Seeing the car keys in Doyoung’s hand is some kind of wake up call for Donghyuck. They’re really here—if you told Donghyuck a couple hours ago that he would end up here with the least spontaneous person he knows, he would have laughed. The real thing—the prospect of twenty-four uninterrupted hours with Doyoung—doesn’t feel particularly funny, rather, Donghyuck feels his heart jackhammering in his chest with excitement.

**

It’s a quick drive to the hotel, even if it’s Doyoung driving. Donghyuck keeps the teasing to a minimum, only laughs once when Doyoung takes a wrong turn that’s entirely to blame on Donghyuck’s poor navigation skills.

Even if they’re doing something simple like driving, Donghyuck feels like it’s special because it’s just the two of them—no managers breathing down their neck, no one to tell them what to do, and what not to do. It almost feels special to be checking into a hotel on his own, to be handed a room key at the reception desk rather than getting one from their manager.

Doyoung’s standing next to him as Donghyuck signs the paperwork, but with his back facing the receptionist, looking out over the beautiful view. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t hear the receptionist asking if they want a king or two singles, or maybe he pretends not to as Donghyuck fumbles for an answer, telling her they’ll take the king, cheeks burning bright red as he does.

Except when they step into the elevator, there’s a secretive little smile on Doyoung’s face, almost like he knows something Donghyuck doesn’t.

“What?” Donghyuck asks, a little skeptical as he narrows his eyes down at Doyoung in the mirror.

“Nothing,” Doyoung hums, as the elevator stops at their floor. His steps are light as he walks ahead of Donghyuck in search of their room number—Donghyuck dragging both his and Doyoung’s luggage behind him, waiting impatiently for Donghyuck to catch up with him.

Room 814 has a beautiful view out over the sea, much like promised in the pictures—except with the bright sunlight somehow even nicer than the images suggested. In the bedroom there’s a king size bed with two towels folded into heart-shaped swans on top, a flatscreen and enough pillows to build an entire fort. Sliding doors open up into the bathroom, a large room with a round tub in the center of it.

Donghyuck dumps their bags on the dresser, looking at himself in the mirror briefly before he goes back into the living area, finding Doyoung standing right by the window. There’s a big orange spinning chair behind him that Donghyuck takes as his, putting his feet up on the table.

“Feet off the table,” Doyoung warns him, like that’s some kind of threat. Normally it is, but this isn’t Doyoung’s coffee table, Donghyuck can do whatever he wants.

They can do whatever they want.

“Come here,” Donghyuck gestures, reaching his hand out to grab Doyoung’s wrist. He pulls him closer, a few steps until he’s standing right in front of Donghyuck, who moves his legs around until Doyoung’s standing between them.

Their eyes meet briefly, a short glance while Donghyuck searches out Doyoung’s other hand, tugging forward until Doyoung lets himself be maneuvered into Donghyuck’s lap. His thighs strain over Donghyuck’s, just barely fitting up against the armrests of the chair, but as he slides forward a little they fit just right, with Doyoung’s hands resting on Donghyuck’s shoulders.

“Hi,” Donghyuck says, a little breathless, bewildered under Doyoung’s gaze. He can’t quite make out what he’s thinking, but breathes relief when he sees Doyoung smile. He’s so pretty when he does, poking the tiniest little dimples right by the corners of his lips—Donghyuck can’t help but smile too when he sees it.

“Hi,” Doyoung returns, equally sheepish before he leans in a little closer, bringing one hand up to cup the back of Donghyuck’s neck. For a second, Donghyuck thinks Doyoung is going to kiss him—he certainly feels like it’s happening when Doyoung brushes his hair away from his forehead, eyes fluttering shut before he feels the soft press of lips against his forehead.

Donghyuck’s heart bursts in warmth, like the sunshine is coming through the windows just to shine on him, just to brighten everything in soft hues for him.

“Thank you,” Doyoung whispers when he pulls back, voice soft and genuine in ways only Doyoung can be. There’s a sliver of vulnerability underneath, and Donghyuck tries not to think about how tired they all are, how they’ve been worn out by the last few weeks, traveling half the world, always being alert and high energy—right up until now, where it’s just the two of them. “For taking me here.”

“You have all day to be sentimental,” Donghyuck jokes with a gleeful smile, “don’t stress it.”

Doyoung makes a face at him, and Donghyuck responds by jabbing at Doyoung’s side, running his hand up and down to tickle him.

**

“I made dinner reservations,” Donghyuck announces casually as he stuffs his phone back into his pocket. They’re in the car, going somewhere Doyoung wouldn’t tell Donghyuck—because if Donghyuck gets to decide everything else, then Doyoung gets to have this.

“Where?” Doyoung asks, equally as ‘casual’, except Donghyuck sees right through that. Doyoung is a naturally curious creature. The most curious one Donghyuck knows.

They’re waiting by a red light, and Doyoung is drumming his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. He looks better, calmer—happier when he’s hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and the sun is beaming down on them.

“Nice try,” Donghyuck chuckles, grinning smugly. “Take a left at the next one,” he adds, as they’re driving with the navigation on mute.

“Can I get a hint?” Doyoung asks, eyes not leaving the road. Doyoung’s attempts at getting information out of Donghyuck aren’t half as fun when Donghyuck doesn’t have his full attention. Then again, everything is better when Donghyuck has his full attention.

“Nope,” Donghyuck decides, and much to his surprise Doyoung just drops it.

Fifteen minutes later Doyoung pulls up to a parking lot by a small cafe, located just by the water. Donghyuck doesn’t make fun of his first attempt at parking—gone horribly wrong—and instead waits patiently for Doyoung to switch off the ignition.

They get a coffee to go with something sweet, before walking down the steps to the water, sitting down by a table in the shade of the trees. It’s not cold by any means, but Donghyuck is wearing a significantly warmer jacket than Doyoung, who forgot his in the car. He eyes Doyoung’s knit cardigan cautiously, wondering if he should offer to go get him something warmer.

The question lingers at the back of his mind as they sit down with a coffee each, enjoying the view. It’s quiet between them. Donghyuck glances at Doyoung every now and then, but every time he does Doyoung’s still looking at the water. The sea breeze is stronger out here than in the city, and Donghyuck can see Doyoung’s cheeks turning slightly pink as the wind cards through his hair.

“Are you cold?” Donghyuck asks, a completely redundant question because he knows the answer, and he knows Doyoung wouldn’t admit that.

“No,” Doyoung lies predictably.

“Do you want me to get your jacket?”

“No,” Doyoung denies, “I’m good.”

He’s not good, tugging at the ends of his sleeves to cover his wrists, shoulders huddled up to conserve warmth. But he’s stubborn—possibly even more than Donghyuck.

Donghyuck gets up, shoving his chair in the direction of Doyoung, right until they’re armrest to armrest. Doyoung glances at him curiously when he sits back down, but catches up pretty soon when Donghyuck stretches his arm out to land it around Doyoung’s shoulder. Doyoung pulls his feet up under him, tucking them against the other armrest of the chair.

Doyoung sighs quietly, before he lets his head fall to the side, resting against Donghyuck’s shoulder. His hands are on the armrest between them, knuckles white from the cold, and Donghyuck takes it as an invitation to put his own hand over them.

“You’re warm,” Doyoung observes quietly, curling his hand into a fist to push the cold back of his hand into Donghyuck’s warm palm.

“And you’re cold,” Donghyuck chuckles, pressing his hand down ever so slightly.

“Isn’t this just like one of those dramas you watch?”

Doyoung sighs, shoving against Donghyuck playfully.

“Brat,” he murmurs under his breath, but it sounds fond to Donghyuck, and that’s all that matters.

**

They have dinner at a small place just a couple streets down from the hotel. Donghyuck suggests they should walk there together, just so that Doyoung can have a drink if he wants to—but they’re barely tipsy by the time they get back to the hotel. Doyoung only had two glasses of wine, and he’s a much better drinker than Donghyuck—who stuck to flat water all night.

Donghyuck is tired enough without alcohol, and thinks he doesn’t want the night to end as soon as they get back to the hotel. He has something else in mind, involving him, Doyoung, and the tub in the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung’s voice calls from the other side of the room. It carries, bouncing off of the walls and resonating in Donghyuck’s ears, curious and smooth. Donghyuck wants to hear Doyoung sing in here.

“Filling up the tub,” Donghyuck responds, smiling to himself. He can’t see Doyoung’s face sour with annoyance with his back turned, but he knows the expression well enough. “You know…” Donghyuck goads him further, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he sees how far he can push. “For a bath.”

“I see that,” Doyoung snaps, his tone short and annoyed, a fuse about to blow. Donghyuck’s fingertips dip under the flowing stream, checking the temperature, and he waits for Doyoung to push further. He does, immediately. “But why?”

“So we can bathe,” Donghyuck shrugs, the killing blow. He stares into the bathwater and prays it wasn’t too forward, all of his cards on display too soon. “My skin is gross from all of the saltwater.” It isn’t technically a lie — Donghyuck really does hate the feeling, his skin stretched too tight, his hair stiff and dry.

It takes Doyoung a second to catch it, his footsteps coming closer, shock and confusion and a touch of amusement in his thick tone. “We?”

Donghyuck turns at the sound, still on his knees, and looks up to find Doyoung standing before him, far closer than he thought. Donghyuck swallows hard, his face aligned with Doyoung’s hips, and cranes his neck up to look at his face, the confusion clouding his eyes. Donghyuck grins, easy and carefree, and tries to sound unaffected. “Tub’s big enough for both of us, might as well.”

Donghyuck doesn’t mention how he’s been thinking about this since seeing the massive jacuzzi tub on the hotel website, or how picturing Doyoung in said jacuzzi is part of what made him choose this room to begin with.

Doyoung seems to consider it, pulling his sleeve over his palm, mindlessly playing with the hem.

“Didn’t you say you were cold?” Donghyuck tries, watches Doyoung’s lips purse into a pout or consideration.

“Well, yes,” he starts apprehensively. The hot water is slowly filling the room with steam, humidity making Doyoung’s hair flatten against his forehead. His cheeks are still the tiniest bit rosy from the wind, or from something else—the look on Doyoung’s face is indecipherable as he watches Donghyuck.

“But?” Donghyuck asks again, because if anything persistence always works on Doyoung. Doyoung doesn’t say no—not to Donghyuck, not when Donghyuck asks. And on his knees in front of him is perhaps the nicest way Donghyuck’s ever asked.

And Donghyuck wins—someone has yet to defy his big sparkling eyes when he asks nicely, and it won’t be Doyoung tonight.

“Okay,” Doyoung gives in, reaching for the top button of his shirt.

Donghyuck gets to his feet as Doyoung starts to take his shirt off, and he can’t help but notice how cold Doyoung’s hands are still, red and stiff as he fumbles with the buttons.

“Here,” Donghyuck hums, stealing Doyoung’s attention, removing his hands to replace them with his own. “Let me help you with that, hyung.”

He can hear Doyoung’s breath hitch when he starts to undo the buttons, but that doesn’t stop him from working his way down quickly, until the shirt falls open over Doyoung’s shoulders.

A red blush skirts across Doyoung’s chest, blooming up perfectly towards his neck—and Donghyuck is certain that’s not the cold talking. Before Donghyuck can catch the same tint and flush in humiliation at their sudden very close very revealing proximity, he turns around and returns his attention to the tub, noticing he forgot to add soap to the water.

“There’s pomegranate noir, or red roses,” Donghyuck observes the two bottles of bath oil on the sink when he comes close enough to read the label. “Which one do you want?”

From the corner of his eye, Donghyuck spots Doyoung in the reflection of the shower wall mirror. All he sees is a silhouette subdued in a thin layer of steam covering up, so Donghyuck has to let his imagination fill in the blanks. No matter how many times he’s seen Doyoung naked, he’s hardly ever felt the curiosity to look.

Something about Doyoung’s apprehension, about the way he tries to keep quiet as he undresses makes arousal stir in Donghyuck’s gut. It feels intimate, so much more than all the other times they’ve shared dressing rooms or seen each other undressed around the dorm. So much that Donghyuck stands there a little longer, pretending like he’s contemplating which scent to choose, when really he can hear Doyoung undressing over the sound of the running tap, the gentle splashing as he gets into the tub, the small sound of surprise as he feels the water.

When Donghyuck finally glances back, Doyoung has gotten into the tub, submerged in the water that reaches the middle of his calves as he sits there with his knees pulled up to his chest.

“So,” Donghyuck asks, as he starts to pull down the zipper of his jacket. It slides off his shoulders easily, leaving him in a shirt that’s much too big on his frame, hanging mid thigh. He keeps his gaze set on Doyoung, their eyes locked even as Donghyuck reaches down to start unbuckling his belt. Doyoung notices, if the way his eyes widen is anything to go by—but he doesn’t look away, not even as Donghyuck undoes the zipper and lets his jeans slide down his legs.

The hard metal of his belt hitting the tiles resonates between the walls, but it still doesn’t deter Doyoung from looking at him—or perhaps it’s what makes him keep his eyes on Donghyuck’s, knowing that if he looks down he’ll see Donghyuck stepping out of his jeans.

“What’s it going to be?” Donghyuck asks again. “Roses or fruit?” He rephrases, because he can’t quite remember the exact title. He’s not immune, after all.

“Anything,” Doyoung says, voice strained and yeah—Donghyuck gets that, he couldn’t care less, this bath was never really about soaking in essential oils, well, at least it’s not for him— “fruit.”

Donghyuck turns around to fetch one of the bottles, but before he grabs it he tugs his shirt over his head, throwing it to the ground carelessly. Humidity clings to his skin as he walks back to the tub, unscrewing the cork before he turns the bottle upside down, pouring the oil down right by the tap. It fizzes out into bubbles, the strong scent of something sweet pinching the air.

Doyoung stares directly into the water, watching the wave of bubbles spread over the top of the bath water. That doesn’t mean that Donghyuck doesn’t catch him taking risky glances as Donghyuck pulls his underwear down his thighs, or the sharp inhale Doyoung takes when his boxers hit the floor.

Or when Donghyuck steps into the bath, the water rippling around his ankle, splashing against Doyoung’s neck, and Doyoung’s knees fall open to give him room to sit between them.

They’re still a foot or two apart, but Donghyuck’s foot is under Doyoung’s thigh, and the outside of one hip glances Doyoung’s ankle with every movement. Their fingertips rest on the edge of the bath, just an inch or two apart.

Donghyuck’s gaze slides back to Doyoung’s face, and he finds him already looking.

“Hot,” Donghyuck says, hiking his shoulders to his ears with a pretend hiss. He hadn’t thought this far into the plan yesterday, his only thoughts being: Doyoung, Jeju, King sized bed, Jacuzzi.

“It feels good,” Doyoung responds, and it’s a perfectly normal answer, but it turns Donghyuck to liquid, his body sinking another half inch under the suds as he represses a groan.

“Good,” is all Donghyuck can reply, his eyes blurring as he stares at a freckle on Doyoung’s cheek, so small he’d never noticed it before.

“Is there any shampoo?” Doyoung asks suddenly, the question dragging Donghyuck from his head.

Donghyuck misses the next thing Doyoung says, pushing himself up enough to take a look around them. Sure enough, sitting just above Doyoung’s shoulder are three white bottles with expensive looking fonts on the front. Donghyuck grins, reaching before thinking.

He only starts thinking when his knee slips at the stretch, his body bowing forward into Doyoung’s torso, a hand wrapping around Donghyuck’s knee under the suds to stop him from falling.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck breathes, his chest heaving as his hand presses into the wall over Doyoung’s head, the tile cool against his palm. He takes a quick breath before reaching the final inch for what he thinks is shampoo.

He hands it to Doyoung before sliding back to his side of the tub, his cheeks now at least ten times more flushed than when he’d sat up.

The click of Doyoung uncapping the shampoo resonates, echoing against the tiles. If Donghyuck thought Doyoung’s voice would carry well in the bedroom, he’s aching to hear it in the bathroom.

Donghyuck watches, somewhat mesmerized, as Doyoung lathers the shampoo in his hands until suds bubble through the gaps between his fingers. It’s only when Doyoung hisses at the movement of raising his arms above his head, his muscles screaming at him after their last show, that Donghyuck remembers the whole point of the weekend.

“Wait—let me help you,” Donghyuck says, but it’s not quite as smooth as before, his voice hitching as his arms reach towards the bottle in Doyoung’s hands, a slight edge of desperation in his tone.

The look Doyoung sends him in return is as loaded as it is indecipherable, but he hands Donghyuck the shampoo without protest.

Donghyuck sits up, the water rushing around him, and raises his hands to Doyoung’s head. He definitely doesn’t notice how on his knees, his hips are out of the water, or how Doyoung’s forehead nearly kisses the lowest of his belly, or how Doyoung caves towards him as his fingers sink into his hair like a bow drawn taught.

Donghyuck spending the better part of five minutes rubbing shampoo in Doyoung’s hair is entirely selfish. Every gasp and groan and shudder he pulls from Doyoung as his nails scratch over Doyoung’s scalp is a victory, his voice melodic and full of ache as his sighs of pleasure bounce off of the tiles.

Donghyuck eventually forces himself to stop playing with the shampoo covered strands before Doyoung can call him out for taking too long. Reluctantly, he lets the silky black strands slip from between his fingertips as he reaches for the shower head, starting the tap back up. It only takes a second to realize it won’t quite reach far enough for Donghyuck to rinse out Doyoung’s hair.

“Can you…” Donghyuck starts to ask, tugging gently at Doyoung’s shoulder to direct him. He expects Doyoung to simply scoot over, turn his back towards the shower head to let Donghyuck rinse out the soap, but instead he simply follows Donghyuck’s direction, turning to face him.

They look at each other, sharing a moment of silence only interrupted by the running tap water. There’s something different in Doyoung’s gaze, he doesn’t have that tired, pliant look anymore—instead there’s a little mischievous glimmer. It sparks that same feeling in Donghyuck’s chest that he felt in the elevator, like Doyoung knows something he doesn’t.

Donghyuck is just about to tell Doyoung to sit down, nudging him in the direction of the tap, when Doyoung does the job for him. But instead of sitting down across from Donghyuck like a sane person, Doyoung nudges Donghyuck’s knee to the side, creating a spot for himself to sit down—and before Donghyuck can protest Doyoung’s sitting with his back against Donghyuck, nestled between his parted legs.

“Oh,” is all Donghyuck can come up with, out of surprise or shock, he doesn’t know—Doyoung’s not only sitting in the perfect position for Donghyuck to rinse out his hair, he’s also sitting so that his ass is practically touching Donghyuck’s cock, so close that Donghyuck can feel the heat of Doyoung’s body even through the millimeter of space between them.

Donghyuck holds his breath for the first few seconds, feeling like Doyoung is so close even just breathing would be too much.

“Hm?” Doyoung hums, glancing over his shoulder to look at Donghyuck—who’s still sitting there with the shower head in hand, making no moves to actually rinse out Doyoung’s hair. As Doyoung moves, the water sloshes between them ever so slightly, but enough for Donghyuck to feel it, and to become acutely aware of their proximity yet again. “Are you gonna—”

“Yes,” Donghyuck cuts him off, directing the showerhead to aim at Doyoung instead, accidentally spraying him in the face. Doyoung flinches at the sudden water, jolting back to look the other way, and Donghyuck suddenly feels an inch of skin press into the inside of his thigh.

He can’t dwell on it—has to focus on actually rinsing Doyoung’s hair out like he’s supposed to, but feels the touch burn into his thigh as he raises the shower a little higher so he can reach Doyoung’s shoulder.

“Tilt your head back for me,” Donghyuck instructs him, so Doyoung doesn’t get any soap in his eyes. Donghyuck decides not to look at the way Doyoung arches his back when he leans back, but god his mouth is running dry despite the humidity of the bathroom.

“Is the temperature okay?” Donghyuck asks as he starts to carefully rinse out the suds.

“Perfect,” Doyoung murmurs, and Donghyuck continues to card through Doyoung’s hair, making sure to get everything out. He puts his hand on Doyoung’s forehead, just at the start of his hairline to make sure nothing runs down his face, and Doyoung leans back just a little more—Donghyuck can’t actually see it, but he can feel it underneath the water where more of Doyoung’s thigh presses against his.

When the last of the shampoo has left Doyoung’s hair, Donghyuck carefully reaches back to shut off the running water. Doyoung remains seated between his legs, carding his own wet hair back from his forehead. Tiny little droplets splatter against Donghyuck’s chest, and he wouldn’t notice them—except Doyoung is so close and so very naked in front of him it’s hard not to.

“Can you give me the body wash?” Doyoung asks, looking over his shoulder at Donghyuck.

No, Donghyuck wants to squeak out to protest, because washing Doyoung’s hair was enough—watching Doyoung lather himself up in soap is going to kill him.

“Of course,” he says instead, because Doyoung is asking, and despite what Donghyuck likes to think he’s so bad at denying Doyoung anything.

Next to the shampoo stands the body wash, and Donghyuck has to reach over to pick it up—except he knows he can’t move too much, or he’ll shift his hips and accidentally acquaint Doyoung with his dick. Instead he has to use every inch of core muscle he possesses to lean over and grab it, exhaling in relief—or exertion—when he sits back up.

“Here,” he hums, reaching over Doyoung’s shoulder to give him the bottle. He half expects Doyoung to just grab it and skirt back to the other side of the tub, but he remains seated as he takes the bottle from Donghyuck.

His hands are wet, and way too slippery to twist and open the cork, and Donghyuck notices his struggle almost immediately. If he were a better man, he would probably offer to help Doyoung right away, but he’s got bigger problems to worry about—like not looking down between their bodies where most of the soap suds have filtered out into thin translucent bubbles that allow Donghyuck to see just how close Doyoung is, see the margin of error he has—none.

“Hyuckie?” Doyoung asks carefully, and that drags Donghyuck’s eyes back up, all the way over the smooth curve of Doyoung’s back, the dimples in his spine and— “can you help me? My hands are too—”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck cuts him off quickly, because the slight shiver to Doyoung’s tone, the clear undercurrent of vulnerability is going to drive him insane.

He reaches around Doyoung’s shoulders, one arm each side and grabs the bottle from him. Now that the bottle is wet, it requires a little more effort to open it, but eventually Donghyuck succeeds—but not without accidentally spilling out some of the contents, landing on Doyoung’s shoulder.

The soap drips down over his clavicle, pooling down into the little dip of his collarbone, before it overflows and runs all the way down his chest, over his pec and into the water. Donghyuck shouldn’t look at it, but he only realizes that when he’s been staring long enough for Doyoung to catch him.

If looks could kill, Donghyuck would be found floating in this tub tomorrow morning. Alas they don’t, but Donghyuck feels like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t when Doyoung suddenly looks back at him. He’s not surprised—doesn’t look like he actually caught Donghyuck—his eyes are narrowed down, pupils blown wide, lips slightly parted, he looks sinful.

“Sorry,” he blurts out, and quickly scoops up what he can from the drizzle down over Doyoung’s chest before he realizes what he’s doing and freezes on the spot, hand still on Doyoung’s shoulder.

“That’s okay,” Doyoung hushes him quickly, rolling his shoulder back into the touch. “Do you want to help me wash up?”

Donghyuck supposes he should answer that question, think it over before he makes anymore mistakes—but all he comes up with is a simple breathless yeah, as he starts to carefully slide his hand back over the curve of Doyoung’s shoulder, up to his neck, spreading out the soap.

Donghyuck pulls away for a moment, rubbing his hands together to spread out the body wash, before putting one hand down on each shoulder, slowly lathering them up. When he starts to use a little more pressure he can feel the tense muscles in Doyoung’s back.

Doyoung’s skin is hot under his touch, slipping under his fingertips from how much body wash they used. Donghyuck finds a knot just under Doyoung’s shoulder blade and presses his thumb into it, watching as Doyoung arches under the pressure, hissing through clenched teeth as Donghyuck works him harder.

Donghyuck wraps his free hand around Doyoung’s left shoulder, fingertips dipping into the valley of his collarbone, and grips hard enough to get Doyoung to stop flinching, “Be still,” Donghyuck scolds him, his mouth just an inch from Doyoung’s ear.

“Sorry,” Doyoung whispers, straightening his spine and rolling his shoulders back. He still flinches when Donghyuck finds the knot again, but visibly tries to reel it in, holding himself still for Donghyuck like he was told.

“Good,” Donghyuck breathes out without thinking, eyes starting to cloud over as his knuckles brush against Doyoung’s lower spine, intimate and slow. “Just like that, hyung.”

“Can you—” Doyoung asks, head ducking, but not before Donghyuck catches the tips of his ears a bright red. The sight stirs something horrible inside of Donghyuck, some evil monster that doesn’t want to stop until every inch of Doyoung is flushed pretty pink for him. Doyoung’s arm moves as his hand comes between them, the water sloshing at the sudden movement as he prods at a section of his spine, just below the water. “Lower, Hyuck-ah, can you…”

“‘Course, hyung,” Donghyuck responds, mouth drying out when he realizes Doyoung is seconds away from brushing against his half-hard cock when he takes his hand back. Donghyuck pushes Doyoung’s hand away with a brush of his knuckles, replacing them with his own hands. He brackets Doyoung’s hips with his fingers, working his thumbs into the sore area and trying not to groan at how small Doyoung’s waist is in his grip. “Better?” Donghyuck asks, out of breath now as his fingers slip on the soap, flirting with dangerous territory as his fingertips creep towards the vee of muscle at the base of Doyoung’s belly with every sweep of his thumbs against Doyoung’s lower back.

Donghyuck brushes against a ball of tense muscle, and watches Doyoung light up like a Christmas tree, twitching with restraint as he tries to hold himself still as Donghyuck works the knot with his palm. “There,” Doyoung whines, head falling back towards Donghyuck’s chest as his hands grip the edge of the tub, pushing back against Donghyuck’s fingertips.

“Feels good?” Donghyuck asks dumbly, rubbing his thumb right back over the knot just to hear Doyoung moan for him again, needy and so, so new. Donghyuck’s never seen him this unrestrained, all of the discipline he runs every single day of his life with washing down the drain as he gives up all of his control for Donghyuck.

“Yes,” Doyoung breathes out, an unrestrained moan falling from his tongue, the sugar sweet sound of his desperation leaving Donghyuck’s cock twitching uselessly against his thigh, begging for attention.

Doyoung’s breathing keeps getting louder, almost like Donghyuck is squeezing the reaction out of him with his hands as he works on the muscles in Doyoung’s back, massaging over the tense nudges of his spine.

“So good,” Doyoung’s voice sounds so fragile, like he’s trying so hard to keep it together, struggling just as much as Donghyuck. Everytime he presses down, feels just how hot Doyoung’s skin is underneath him, how wound up he is he has to stifle the need to completely unravel him.

“Yeah?” Donghyuck asks, as he slowly moves one hand over the curves of Doyoung’s waist, down over his belly to the dip of his hipbone. He can tell by the hitch in Doyoung’s breathing that he feels it too, how close Donghyuck’s hand is creeping. “I can make you feel even better.”

Donghyuck can feel Doyoung tensing up, the water sloshing as he moves his legs around under the dissipating bubbles. His thighs strain as they clamp together, letting Donghyuck feel just what it does to him.

The sound Doyoung makes is indistinguishable, be it a protest or urging Donghyuck to go on, Donghyuck slides his other hand from the small of Doyoung’s back to his chest, coming up to flick over Doyoung’s nipple.

“Hyuck,” Doyoung tries, but falls short for words when Donghyuck twists his nipple between two fingers. “We shouldn’t do this,” Doyoung breathes, and although he implies he’s apprehensive, nothing about the way his body reacts to Donghyuck’s touch lets that show. The water is still pleasantly warm, but Doyoung visibly shivers when Donghyuck drags his hand up over Doyoung’s chest, pressing flat just over his sternum. Donghyuck can feel his heart racing, giving away just how much he wants this, despite his last bit of sanity hanging on for dear life.

Donghyuck’s breath ghosts over Doyoung’s neck, leaving a wake of goosebumps before his lips brush over his ear. He eyes the rise and fall of Doyoung’s chest, sharp and controlled—and then swipes his tongue over Doyoung’s earlobe, before pulling it between his teeth. The reaction that follows is instantaneous, Doyoung’s chest seizing up with a sharp breath, turning into a lewd moan when Donghyuck starts to suck.

“Oh, fuck,” Doyoung groans, voice wearing almost as thin as Donghyuck’s patience.

“I don’t think you want to stop,” Donghyuck whispers into his ear when he pulls away for long enough, the hand on Doyoung’s thigh squeezing hard.

“I just—“ Doyoung starts, the sentence melting into a gasp when Donghyuck’s lips return to his neck. “We shouldn’t—” Doyoung repeats, his head falling back into Donghyuck’s shoulder, wet hair tickling his neck.

Donghyuck pauses, eyebrows furrowing. If Doyoung really doesn’t want this, he’ll stop. Donghyuck wants Doyoung to want this—so badly he’s aching with it—but he would never make Doyoung do something he didn’t want to. “Because you’re scared, or because you don’t want this?” Donghyuck asks softly, pulling back to try to catch Doyoung’s eyes.

“Because I don’t?…“ Doyoung quotes, sounding exasperated. He grabs the hand Donghyuck just took off of his body, and pulls Donghyuck’s hand under the water, dragging it right to his cock. Donghyuck’s breath hitches as Doyoung wraps his own fingers around Donghyuck’s to close his hand into a fist, the pressure causing Doyoung’s cock to twitch against his palm. “Can’t you—“ Doyoung starts, his breathing ragged as Donghyuck moves his fist around him in a practiced glide, just light enough to tease. “It’s not because I don’t want this.”

“I want you to ask me,” Donghyuck says, drunk on the velvety feel of Doyoung bucking up into his fist. His eyes widen and lose focus when Doyoung lets out a whimper at the demand, knees coming up out of the water as he tries to get leverage to fuck into Donghyuck’s fist.

“Please,” Doyoung begs, any last ounce of trepidation gone, face twisting into pleasure as he falls back against Donghyuck’s chest and lets Donghyuck have full control. “I want this—I want you. Please, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck grins against the top of Doyoung’s head, cocksure and pleased. He works his hand over Doyoung’s cock lazily, slow and steady until almost all of the bubbles are gone, the red tip of Doyoung’s cock against his tan fist visible under the water.

Taking one more risk, Donghyuck lets go of Doyoung’s cock completely, right when Doyoung starts to get close, pulling his hand back to the edge of the tub and waiting for Doyoung to yell at him.

The yelling never comes. What comes instead is Doyoung turning around in the tub so fast that a gallon of water rushes over the edge and onto the floor, eyes bright with something wild and unkempt that Donghyuck has never seen on him, stuck between lust and annoyance.

“What?” Donghyuck asks, tilting his head to one side and putting on his best stage smile—full of naivety and entirely a facade. He’s well aware that he’s pushing Doyoung’s buttons right now, but he doesn’t care. There’s something intoxicating about the way Doyoung reacts to him.

Doyoung’s face contorts like it always does before he calls Donghyuck annoying, but he holds it in, teeth digging into his bottom lip like a rabbit. “I said please,” Doyoung whines softly, his gaze dragging from Donghyuck’s eyes to his mouth, staring at him like he’s starving.

“Please, what?” Donghyuck goads him, pushing Doyoung’s wet bangs off of his forehead and watching his cheeks burn pink under Donghyuck’s elevator eyes.

“Take me to bed,” Doyoung says, pressing a palm to Donghyuck’s chest and crawling forward until he’s straddling his hips, cock trapped between them, not an inch of space between their bodies. Doyoung’s hands drag up the front of Donghyuck’s body until they sink into his hair, tugging the wet strands just enough for Donghyuck to crane his head up to meet Doyoung’s eyes. “Take me to bed,” Doyoung repeats, using the leverage he has to pull Donghyuck’s mouth towards him, crushing him into a kiss, desperate and wet.

Donghyuck has kissed a lot of people, but never like this. Doyoung falls apart under his touch, hips rolling over Donghyuck’s lap as he sucks in Donghyuck’s tongue like it’s his favorite candy. Doyoung bites at his lips, and whines against his mouth, and arches against his front when Donghyuck pulls him further into his lap with a tug. It’s greedy, and desperate, and hot, so hot Donghyuck thinks he might die before they make it to the bed.

Speaking of which—Donghyuck pulls back from the kiss, his nose pressing against Doyoung’s cheek, and takes a shaky breath, palms fitting around Doyoung’s waist as his brain tries to process that this is actually happening.

“Up,” Donghyuck mutters, somewhat nonsensical as he pats Doyoung’s hips, the only thought on his mind getting Doyoung in a bed with his legs spread for him.

Doyoung pouts at the idea of getting out of the warm bath, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes, impatient and so horny he’s about to explode. Before he can really think through what he’s about to do, Donghyuck slides both hands under Doyoung’s ass, holding him tight to his chest, and pushes up out of the water into a standing position, every muscle in him groaning at the effort.

“Oh my god,” Doyoung laughs, legs wrapping tight around Donghyuck’s hips, arms clutching his shoulders. “Put me down! I can walk, Hyuck. Let me do it myself.”

“No,” Donghyuck grins, planting a placating kiss to Doyoung’s shoulder. “I said I was going to take care of you, hyung. Let me.”

Donghyuck carefully steps over the edge of the tub, nearly dropping them both when he steps into the puddle of water Doyoung splashed there earlier.

Doyoung screams, arms tightening around Donghyuck’s neck, and slaps his shoulder. “I swear to God, Lee Donghyuck…. Don’t you dare drop me.”

“I won’t,” Donghyuck laughs, hiking Doyoung further up his body. “I’ve got you, babe.”

Doyoung shoots him a look at the pet name but shuts up regardless, relaxing in Donghyuck’s arms as he carries him to the bedroom.

Doyoung’s hand slides appreciatively over the swell of his bicep with a low curse, and Donghyuck reminds himself to say yes to Johnny when he asks him to come to the gym with him more often if it means Doyoung is going to look at him like this.

Donghyuck sets Doyoung down on the bed over the pristinely made sheets they still haven’t touched, and watches Doyoung relax against them, legs falling open pliantly. His skin is glistening wet, reflecting in the low light from a night lamp that is casting beautiful hues of orange over Doyoung’s body. Donghyuck wishes he had enough self control to take his time eyeing the perfect picture Doyoung paints—but instead he’s crawling up the bed until he’s settled between Doyoung’s legs, hands running over the inside of his thighs to hike them up a little further. The touch makes Doyoung’s breath hitch in surprise, lips parted as he throws his head back against the pillow, chest arching off the bed.

It’s almost surreal how good he looks, how he’s all for Donghyuck to take—just thinking that Donghyuck made him like this, pliant, needy—wanting, asking for him, it’s making his head spin a little as he inches forward, carefully putting a hand on either side of Doyoung’s shoulders.

Careful goes out the window moments later, when Doyoung reaches up to grab the back of Donghyuck’s neck, fingers running through the strands of hair until he has a fistful and he tugs hard, pulling Donghyuck down to crash their mouths together. Doyoung bites at Donghyuck’s lower lip, tugging until Donghyuck gasps back against him, and Doyoung greedily licks into his mouth, teasing the hair at the nape of his neck. All apprehension from before has vanished now, no need to pretend like they’re shy, testing the waters to see what the other wants—no, Doyoung kisses him with so much determination, rough and needy, leaving Donghyuck’s lips covered in spit when he comes up for air.

With a sharp breath, Doyoung leans up to kiss him again, arching up so they’re chest to chest, dragging Donghyuck down until he’s right on top of him. Doyoung’s thighs smother Donghyuck’s hips, every inch of space between them gone before Doyoung rolls his hips up, letting Donghyuck feel the tiniest bit of friction, enough for a startled moan to slip out against Doyoung’s mouth.

“You’re so—” Donghyuck starts, but gets cut off immediately by Doyoung, pulling Donghyuck close like a lifeline, like he’ll run out of air if he lets go. “Hyung—”

“Mh?” Doyoung asks, impatience permeating his tone—he sounds so sure of himself. With one moment to breathe, Donghyuck eases himself up on his arms, creating enough room to look down between their bodies, see the way Doyoung’s thighs sit snug against his hips, how water still glistens in stripes across Doyoung’s skin. The way he’s laid out right underneath Donghyuck, for Donghyuck—it’s better than anything Donghyuck could have imagined.

And he can’t lie and say he hasn’t imagined this.

He presses his lips to the side of Doyoung’s jaw, kissing down over his neck, watching the way Doyoung tilts his head back to give him better access—he’s so pliant, so needy for Donghyuck.

“So hot like this,” Donghyuck murmurs, barely a whisper, but Doyoung’s body reacts to every syllable, thighs squeezing Donghyuck’s hips. He shifts his weight back to his knees, allowing him to kiss down Doyoung’s neck, over the wet dip of his collarbone, right to the little juncture by his throat where the gentle peck turns into a bite, Doyoung gasping for air when Donghyuck starts to suck.

Doyoung squirms underneath Donghyuck as his skin turns a perfect red, blossoming into a swollen purple as Donghyuck lets up, pulling away for a moment to admire the damage he’s done. Doyoung’s throat would look absolutely sinful covered in it, marked up in bites that he knows Donghyuck put there, and Donghyuck can’t help himself as he kisses lower down Doyoung’s body.

Doyoung’s skin tastes vaguely of bath oil, but also something so instinctively him Donghyuck can’t quite put it to words, but his head is spinning thinking he’s the one doing this to Doyoung, hands on his waist to hold him in place as he leaves featherlight kisses down Doyoung’s tummy. That’s his work of art, his Doyoung.

“Tickles,” Doyoung breathes, but he doesn’t protest—just lets Donghyuck know, and Donghyuck can’t help but smile, pressing his nose into the soft skin just above Doyoung’s hip.

He has to move down the mattress, very ungracefully scooting backwards until his foot hangs off the edge, and he’s created enough room to run his hands from Donghyuck’s waist over to his thighs, carefully skirting across the inside, purposefully ignoring Doyoung’s cock.

When Donghyuck puts his mouth to Doyoung’s thigh, he squirms so much that Donghyuck actually has to grab him, hold him in place so he can kiss down the inside, closer and closer to where Doyoung wants him but never quite there. He can easily hide the lovebites here so Donghyuck isn’t careful, merely pushes Doyoung down against the sheets as he bites and sucks all over the inside of his thigh.

“You’re so pretty like this, hyung,” Donghyuck muses, as Doyoung’s thighs tremble when Donghyuck pushes his thumb into one of the fresh bruises. 

Donghyuck glances up briefly, sees Doyoung’s head thrown back against the pillow, his hair a mess and his throat littered in red and purple—he looks sinful, and Donghyuck can’t help but add fuel to the fire, finally getting his hand on Doyoung’s leaking cock, stroking up and down slowly—but enough for Doyoung to arch his back off the mattress.

“You’re so hard for me,” Donghyuck murmurs, watching Doyoung’s chest heave with every torturously slow stroke, “do you want me that bad?”

Doyoung whines, sounding like the sweetest thing Donghyuck has ever heard as he thumbs over the head of Doyoung’s cock, smearing out his precome down his length. Donghyuck watches the way every word lands, the way Doyoung reacts to every touch, almost like he’s Donghyuck’s personal toy to play with.

Donghyuck never gets to see this—instances where Doyoung’s so bare, so open and raw in what he wants, and deep down inside Donghyuck still worries if it’s too much, if he’ll say the wrong thing and push too far, if he’ll ask too much of Doyoung. He’s been dipping his feet in the devil’s water all night, coming up for air every now and then to revel in how sweet it tastes—but it’s all just guessing what Doyoung wants, what he likes—just trying to read his body language, figuring out the best he can.

“Do you want me to fuck you, hyung?” Donghyuck asks, and Doyoung’s back arches so beautifully, like Donghyuck is playing all the right strings. “Is that what you want baby, have you thought about that before?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung breathes, chest heaving as he fights out the words “yeah, I have, I want that so bad—”

And ultimately it’s not Doyoung that breaks—but it’s Donghyuck’s resolve, because he can’t just sit there and watch, the urge to kiss Doyoung is so overwhelming it takes him a split second to crawl up over his body, position himself back between Doyoung’s thighs and latch their mouths together again.

It’s so much messier than before, Doyoung barely able to kiss him back properly as Donghyuck forces his mouth open, swipes his tongue over Doyoung’s lower lip until he can lick inside.

As they’re kissing, Donghyuck starts to think about how much he wants this—how good Doyoung would look on his back in front of Donghyuck, or sitting in his lap as he rides him—all perfect images that fall apart the moment Donghyuck starts thinking about how.

He didn’t actually plan for this to happen. Getting Doyoung into the tub with him was as far as he allowed himself to dream when he planned this trip—but actually getting Doyoung into bed wasn’t even something he dared to hope for, and now that he thinks about what he did and didn’t pack for this trip, he thinks they’re pretty screwed.

Although room service could potentially supply lube and condoms, Donghyuck thinks that the sheer humiliation he would get from having to ask would ruin the mood. Doyoung being Doyoung would probably die before he makes that phonecall downstairs. Then of course, there’s a 7/11 just across the road, but that would entail Donghyuck getting dressed and out of here and that is if they even sell that.

They’re screwed, figuratively (and god does Donghyuck wish it was literally).

Donghyuck’s zoned out, thinking about how exactly he’s going to make this work, interest diverted from kissing Doyoug, who notices immediately.

“Everything okay?” Doyoung asks, concern very obvious in his tone as he reaches up to brush Donghyuck’s hair away from his forehead. It’s so tender Donghyuck nearly forgets his disappointment.

“God, I—” and Donghyuck smiles despite how hopeless he feels, dropping his head down to press against Doyoung’s clavicle. “I’m thinking how badly I want to fuck you, but that I didn’t bring anything.”

Doyoung giggles, actually fucking giggles, and Donghyuck has no idea what to make of that, cautiously lifting his head to glance back up at him. Suddenly Doyoung’s arms are around Donghyuck’s shoulders, clinging to him as he uses his hips to nudge Donghyuck over, effectively rolling the both of them to the other side of the bed, until Doyoung is straddling him instead.

Donghyuck can’t help but think about what else those hips could do—but finds that thought quickly forgotten when Doyoung leans down to kiss him.

“What if I did?” Doyoung asks when he pulls away, eyes boring into Donghyuck’s.

“What if you did what?” Donghyuck asks, because he’s still trying to catch up with how Doyoung did that, and how perfectly his hands fit on Doyoung’s hips as he holds him in his lap.

Doyoung chuckles again, detaching Donghyuck’s hands from around his waist before he swings one leg over, easily getting up from Donghyuck’s lap. He walks across the bedroom until he reaches their bags, bending over at the waist to reach into his own. He must be doing that on purpose, Donghyuck can’t think of any other reason why Doyoung would have to bend over like that, push his ass out for Donghyuck to see—and he’s seeing, fisting his hands in the sheets to stifle a very loud and embarrassing whimper.

“Here,” Doyoung says, standing back up to toss something Donghyuck’s way. He misses, because he’s got absolutely no coordination at all, watching the way moonlight from the window carves perfect shadows into Doyoung’s silhouette, and he doesn’t even notice what exactly Doyoung just threw at him until Doyoung’s back in his lap, picking up the bottle that landed on the other end of the bed.

Donghyuck goes a little cross eyed when Doyoung holds it out in front of him, a half full bottle of lubricant.

“Oh,” Donghyuck breathes, and then the implications fall into place. “You brought this?”

“Mh,” Doyoung simply hums, sweet and coy like he isn’t basically admitting he wanted this to happen.

“Did you want this to happen?” Donghyuck still has to ask, because if Doyoung wanted this to happen then he must’ve thought about it and—

“Just in case,” Doyoung says, like that implication isn’t driving Donghyuck insane.

“That’s—” hot, Donghyuck thinks, but if he thinks about it anymore he’s going to pass out, and he really doesn’t want this to end here, so, “condom?”

It’s Doyoung’s turn to be surprised. “Oh, well, I didn’t think we’d—”

“I have one,” Donghyuck interrupts him, because that he does have. “It’s in my wallet, in my pants in the bathroom—”

Doyoung’s already getting up, making his way back into the bathroom to retrieve it. Donghyuck is glad he does, because he’s not really sure how well his legs are working right now, feeling like all the blood in his body is directed elsewhere.

He has one single condom in his wallet, courtesy of Mark Lee who once told him that carrying a condom in your wallet is the best life insurance you can have, and while that is the unsexiest thing someone’s ever said to him, and just thinking about Mark is putting a dent in his excitement—he’s still a tiny bit grateful for it.

The condom hits Donghyuck’s chest before he even sees Doyoung return, startling a laugh out of him. It’s slightly embarrassing, his body twitching as it falls to the mattress, but Doyoung’s smile is worth it—gummy and full, warming Donghyuck’s chest.

“C’mere,” Donghyuck murmurs, holding his arms out and welcoming the weight as Doyoung lays on top of him, the pressure on his cock reminding him how hard he is. Donghyuck rolls them over to press Doyoung into the mattress with a long kiss, hard and full of intent as he licks behind Doyoung’s teeth. The more they fool around, the more in tune Donghyuck becomes with Doyoung’s body; how if he touches his thighs, he melts, how Doyoung falls apart when Donghyuck bites at his lips, how he purrs when Donghyuck tugs on the strands of his hair just hard enough to sting.

When the pressure between them rutting against each other becomes unbearable, Donghyuck sits up to roll the condom on. Or he means to, but Doyoung is already picking it up, tearing the wrapper open with his teeth like he’s done it a million times, before rolling it over Donghyuck’s cock.

“You’re unreal,” Donghyuck groans as he picks up the lube, watching as Doyoung pushes himself further up the mattress, his feet digging into the comforter on either side of Donghyuck’s hips.

“How do you—” Donghyuck breaks off, uncharacteristically shy as he sits between Doyoung’s thighs and warms the lube up between his fingers. Still, asking Doyoung how he wants to be fucked feels embarrassing. Donghyuck thinks if maybe he was as old as Doyoung, with a bit more experience under his belt, he wouldn’t have to ask, he’d just know. But Donghyuck isn’t older, and he isn’t more experienced, and he’d rather not disappoint Doyoung before he even gets inside of him, so he swallows his pride and asks again. “How do you want me, hyung?”

Doyoung hums like he’s considering it, but his next words are purposefully coy, a show of naivety that Donghyuck didn’t know Doyoung was playful enough to pull out. “Maybe like the bath?”

It takes Donghyuck a second to realize what he means, but the second he does, he’s hit with a freight train of memory—Doyoung crawling towards him with hunger in his eyes, the water sloshing around them, the taste of him on Donghyuck’s tongue as he rolled his hips over Donghyuck’s lap, grinding down onto him. Doyoung wants to ride him.

“What?” Doyoung groans, when Donghyuck takes too long to answer, likely already anticipating something snarky to come out of his mouth.

“Just,” Donghyuck laughs, shaking his head. He pushes one of Doyoung’s thighs closer to his chest, and lowers his fingers to Doyoung’s rim, circling it as slow and teasing as he can muster, unwilling to rush this. “Thought you’d be more boring,” Donghyuck grins.

“Brat,” Doyoung throws back at him, too fond to be annoyed.

The annoyance falls off of Doyoung’s face the second Donghyuck works a finger into him. He’s even tighter than Donghyuck expected, sucking his finger in to the first knuckle as he starts to breathe heavily.

“Hyung, you’re so tight,” Donghyuck groans, dragging one finger in and out until Doyoung starts to relax under him. He checks in with Doyoung, pulling out the finger to dribble more lube onto his hand. “You okay?”

“Don’t stop,” Doyoung says quickly, meeting Donghyuck’s eyes, his irises aflame with bright intensity. So Donghyuck doesn’t stop until Doyoung is writhing on the bed, tears in his beautiful brown eyes, gasping and blushing, and begging for a fourth finger as Donghyuck massages his prostate.

Donghyuck doesn’t give him the satisfaction of coming on his fingers, pulling them out all together right when Doyoung’s about to come.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asks, wild impatience in his tone, pushing up onto his elbows to glare at Donghyuck as he lies down next to him.

Donghyuck grins, looking at Doyoung from the corner of his eye, and pats his thighs. “You’re stretched enough,” he says, watching Doyoung’s pupils blow until almost all of the brown is dwarfed by midnight black. “Like the bath, hyung,” he adds, just to watch Doyoung shiver as the memory passes over him.

“Like this?” Doyoung asks softly, knees sinking into the mattress to frame Donghyuck’s hips, reaching between his legs to press Donghyuck against his hole, his rim stretched enough that the tip of his cock almost sinks in.

Donghyuck grabs Doyoung’s waist with both hands, fucking his hips up without preamble until he’s buried inside of Doyoung and dizzy with the feeling of him, squeezing his cock like a glove. “Like this, hyung,” Donghyuck groans, pulling Doyoung up until his dick almost slips out just to drag him back down, both of them gasping.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck gasps, rasping out the last air in his lungs—Doyoung’s so tight around him Donghyuck’s curling his toes in the sheets in attempt to keep it together. “Shit, hyung, you feel so good.”

Doyoung’s hands skirt over Donghyuck’s chest, until he’s curling them around Donghyuck’s shoulders, shifting his hips to rearrange himself—the angle changes, and Donghyuck can see the way it makes Doyoung’s face contort in pleasure, eyes screwed shut as his mouth falls open in a soft moan.

As Doyoung starts to move, Donghyuck’s grip on his waist tightens to keep him in place, lifting his hips to meet him halfway. The slope of Doyoung’s waist, curving down into his wide hips has got to be Donghyuck’s new favorite place to hold, watching the way his fingers press dents into Doyoung’s skin as he holds onto him tighter. As if Doyoung wasn’t pretty enough covered in lovebites, he’s going to look even better with Donghyuck’s fingerprints lingering red on his skin.

“Fuck. Donghyuck, right there, please.” Doyoung is breathless, his words strung out drowsily, but Donghyuck hears him nonetheless, using the grip on Doyoung’s waist as leverage to buck his hips up again. “Yes,” Doyoung hisses, “just like that, you’re—” a punched out moan interrupting him, “so good for me.”

A litany of praise falls from Doyoung’s lips, mixed with short breaths that make his voice that much thinner, make him sound so desperate as he rides Donghyuck. His thighs quiver in exertion, putting more weight on his hands to push Donghyuck into the mattress, lifting his hips to force them down again.

Donghyuck eyes the blissful expression on Doyoung’s face, the way he bites his lip to keep quiet, the sweat beading on his forehead—Donghyuck doesn’t think he’s ever looked better. It’s difficult to just lie there and watch, when Doyoung looks the way he does, his lips red and raw and so inviting, that Donghyuck can’t help himself but reach out to card a strand of hair behind Doyoung’s eyes, watching the way his expression changes.

Doyoung stills as he sinks down, eyes wide as he looks down at Donghyuck, fingernails still ticking Donghyuck’s chest. It’s a different kind of intimate, Donghyuck’s hand brushing Doyoung’s hair out of his eyes—much too gentle.

Using his free hand, Donghyuck pushes up into a seated position, searching out Doyoung’s red-bitten lips into a searing kiss. Doyoung whimpers against his mouth, grinding his hips down in Donghyuck’s lap until he’s whining into the kiss.

“I want—” Donghyuck starts, then forgets what he’s saying when Doyoung bites at his lower lip, tugging it out until it hurts just enough.

“Hm?” Doyoung asks, reminding him of the question—but as he looks Donghyuck in the eyes he rolls his hips down torturously slowly, and Donghyuck thinks he might black out.

“Fuck—” he gasps, once again cut off by himself. His thighs twitch helplessly, trapped underneath Doyoung’s weight.

“Tell me,” Doyoung whispers, and he sounds so alluring Donghyuck almost misses the way his voice quavers. “Tell hyung what you want.”

Doyoung makes it sound easy, like Donghyuck could just ask and Doyoung would give him anything he wanted. And seeing the way Doyoung looks at him right now, he thinks maybe that’s true.

“I want you on your back,” Donghyuck admits, and his cheeks burn bright as he says it. “Want to fuck you like that.”

Doyoung’s hands on his shoulders stroke up towards his neck, coming around to cup his jaw before pressing a gentle kiss against Donghyuck’s lips. It’s so much softer than the red crescents Doyoung’s fingernails left on his shoulders, but Donghyuck melts all the same, need burning low in his belly as he chases Doyoung’s lips.

Donghyuck’s hands are shaking when he pulls away, hand on Doyoung’s waist to help him pull off, letting him roll over onto his back to the other side of the bed, where the sheets still lie untouched. He reaches up to grab a pillow, offering it to Doyoung.

“Thanks,” Doyoung murmurs, smiling sheepishly as he lifts his hips to scoot further up the bed. When he’s comfortable, he reaches for Donghyuck’s wrists, guiding him to sit between Doyoung’s legs. Tentatively he brushes a hand down the inside of Doyoung’s thighs, eyeing the damage he did with his mouth. “Donghyuck-ah?”

Donghyuck looks up, drawing his eyes away from the beautiful canvas of Doyoung’s thighs, and flushes pink at the idea that he got caught staring—despite their already compromised position.

Doyoung shifts his hips slightly, legs parting further as if to invite him, and Donghyuck’s scrambling to come closer, one hand on Doyoung’s hip and the other aligning his cock with Doyoung’s hole. He pushes forward ever so slightly, watching Doyoung’s mouth go slack, his chest caving in as he relaxes, and then squeezes down on his waist to bottom out, hips pressed flush to Doyoung’s ass.

He doesn’t wait this time, doesn’t think he can hold back anymore as he starts thrusting, reveling in the way Doyoung sounds when he falls apart beneath him. Like this, Donghyuck feels like he’s in control, like all those lewd moans Doyoung elicits are for him to capture, ducking down to seal their mouths together.

Doyoung’s surprised gasp is muffled against Donghyuck’s mouth, but his body seizes up, arching off the bed to come against Donghyuck’s—his heat clutching Donghyuck so unbearably tight—Donghyuck loses his balance and topples forward, catching himself on his hands just before he falls on top of Doyoung. After taking a breath to stabilize himself, he glances up and finds how close they suddenly are, chest to chest and almost face to face. As he starts to move his arms in an attempt to get back up, he feels Doyoung’s thumb stroking his hand where he’s trapped underneath, until their fingers slot together and their hands are intertwined.

Carefully Donghyuck lifts himself up, as far as he can without letting go of Doyoungs hands. He shifts his weight onto his forearms and then slowly nudges his hips forward, a little sigh of pleasure falling from Doyoung’s mouth. Donghyuck does it again, surging his hips forward with more force, again and again until he’s building a steady rhythm, Doyoungs hands grasping at his as he squirms underneath him.

“So good,” Doyoung breathes, chest heaving as he looks at Donghyuck, “you’re so good—fuck me so well, I’m—”

Donghyuck fucks into him so hard it jostles Doyoung’s body up the mattress, accompanied by Doyoung’s hiccupey moans, voice light and so so pretty.

He squeezes Doyoung’s hand before detangling their fingers, inching back to grab the inside of Doyoung’s thigh, pushing it back towards his chest. It tilts his hips up a little, and when he slides back in, Doyoung actually cries out, sound dripping off the walls, lighting Donghyuck on fire from the inside out.

“Right there,” Doyoung gasps, and he’s squeezing around Donghyuck’s cock so tight for each thrust, “please, right there, I’m—”

Donghyuck lets go of Doyoung’s thigh, letting it fall back against his chest and wanders down over his belly, hands feeling the taut muscles tensing up for each thrust. A slick pool of precome has gathered just over Doyoung’s naval, weeping from his neglected cock, and Donghyuck drags his fingers through before wrapping them around Doyoung’s cock.

“Donghyuck,” Doyoung whimpers, throwing his head back against the pillow. He sounds like a fucking melody, like the most beautiful thing Donghyuck has ever heard as he strokes him, thrusts getting sloppy the closer he gets. “I’m gonna—gonna come.”

“Yeah, hyung, are you gonna come for me?” Donghyuck eggs him on, making a tight circle of his hand to get Doyoung off.

“Yes, fuck. Please, Donghyuck. Please,” Doyoung begs, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure wracks over him, his thighs starting to tremble under Donghyuck’s hands, his abs clenching in as he comes. Doyoung looks beautiful like this — unrestrained as he falls into his pleasure, sweat dripping down the plane of his cheeks, tears clinging to his dark eyelashes.

“Be loud for me, hyung,” Donghyuck breathes, slowing his thrusts to a grind, right where he thinks Doyoung’s prostate is, squeezing the head of Doyoung’s cock with a tight grip and working him through the orgasm as he spills over Donghyuck’s fist and onto his stomach. “No one can hear you but me. Let me hear your pretty voice, hyung.”

“Hyuckie—Hyuck—” Doyoung cries, overwhelmed as Donghyuck continues his slow massage of his tip to Doyoung’s prostate, legs twitching and ass clenching down tight. “I’m—I’m—”

Donghyuck doesn’t hear the end of the sentence, pleasure hitting him like a train, ears filling with cotton as his vision blanks, nothing but white noise in his head as he fills the condom with come. Donghyuck sags on top of Doyoung’s chest when he has nothing left to give, exhaustion numbing him to his bones. He doesn’t pull out, instead, letting his dick go soft again inside of Doyoung’s stretched hole, the warmth around him intoxicating.

“You’re heavy,” Doyoung whines, making a sound of disgust as some of Donghyuck’s hair falls into his mouth. “And still inside of me.”

Donghyuck laughs, his chest shaking against Doyoung’s, and presses an apologetic kiss to the bit of sweaty skin directly underneath him, somewhere near Doyoung’s collarbone. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, making no move to pull out or get up.

Doyoung squirms at the pet name, averting his gaze to the ceiling as his cheeks flush. Donghyuck grins against his skin, something victorious rising in his chest at the new knowledge of the effect he has on Doyoung. It’s going to take everything in him not to call Doyoung baby in front of the members. “You like that don’t you, hyung? Being my baby?”

“No,” Doyoung says, lying through his teeth. He still won’t make eye contact, and Donghyuck decides that just won’t do, grabbing his chin in one hand and drawing his face back to focus.

“Don’t lie to me,” Donghyuck scolds, giving him a lazy thrust in retaliation, all of the nerve endings in Doyoung lighting up when he accidentally rubs against his prostate again.

“Oh, fuck,” Doyoung gasps, clenching down on Donghyuck’s cock so hard it’s his turn to get oversensitive. Donghyuck pulls back to thrust into him again, and Doyoung grabs at his hips, holding him still as he struggles to catch his breath. “Stop, stop it. Fine! Yes. Yes, I like it.”

“You like what?” Donghyuck asks, tilting his head to one side, his tip still stretching Doyoung’s rim, cheeks aching with how hard he’s grinning. Doyoung clenches his teeth at him, probably trying to show his annoyance, but really just looking cute.

“Pull out of me right now,” Doyoung says, using his best stern voice that he normally reserves for Taeyong when he’s trying to steal Doyoung’s food. “Donghyuck.”

“You like what, hyung?” Donghyuck repeats, staring down at Doyoung’s eyes with his heart in his throat and never wanting this feeling to go away—the rush in his chest as they toy with each other, the buzz in his blood from all of the endorphins.

“You are such a fucking brat,” Doyoung growls, reaching between his thighs, a fist wrapping around the base of Donghyuck’s cock to force him to pull out. Both of them gasp in sync as Doyoung’s rim stretches around the swollen head of his cock one last time. “I do like it, though,” Doyoung admits, running his hands over his face to hide his blush as he lays back down. “You know… when you call me baby.”

“I know,” Donghyuck says simply, taking the condom off with a shit eating grin, tying it off and walking across the room to throw it away before they get any more come on the fancy hotel sheets. Speaking of which— “Watch out, hyung, you’re about to roll into a puddle of your come.”

“Oh my god, what the fuck,” Doyoung groans, rolling so hard to his left he almost falls off of the bed. He stands up, staring down at the bed in horror. “Oh my god, Donghyuck.”

“What, hyung?” Donghyuck asks, turning to Doyoung and wrapping himself around his back, lips to the top notch of his spine, arms around his middle.

“The sheets.”

Donghyuck stands on his tip-toes to peer over Doyoung’s shoulder at the mess, and sure enough, grimaces when he sees it.

“Yikes,” Donghyuck hisses, teeth clenching, before he pecks Doyoung’s shoulder. “I’ll fuck you in the tub next time.”

**

Donghyuck sits on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for Doyoung to come out of the bathroom. He tried distracting himself with his phone, but the shower stopped running a while ago, and any second now he’s expecting Doyoung to come out through those sliding doors, wondering if he’ll still be able to look Doyoung in the eyes after that.

It turns out he can, looking Doyoung in the eyes is not a problem—what’s difficult is looking at the rest of Doyoung, wearing Donghyuck’s shirt. It looks even bigger on Doyoung, somehow, pooling just at his thighs, right by one of those red purple bruises Donghyuck put there.

It’s a lot to take in, and Donghyuck has abandoned all his attempts not to stare—that’s his shirt, technically, and it sparks something ugly and possessive in his chest.

“What’s this?” Doyoung asks curiously, his slipper clad feet padding out of the bathroom. He eyes the tray with a wine cooler and two glasses as he comes closer, but Donghyuck is completely occupied staring at him, he forgets to answer.

“Did you order room service?” Doyoung goes on, snapping Donghyuck out of it when he reaches out to gently pat Donghyuck’s knee.

“Yeah,” Donghyuck admits, “I called housekeeping to change the sheets as well.”

“I hope you tipped them well, we made a mess,” Doyoung laughs breathlessly, smiling at Donghyuck.

“You made a mess,” Donghyuck corrects, and doesn’t miss the way that makes Doyoung’s cheeks flush pink.

Donghyuck watches Doyoung pour them two glasses of wine, handing one off to Donghyuck before he walks away, grabbing something from his suitcase. Donghyuck takes a sip of wine, thinks it tastes much too bitter for his liking—but sips on it nonetheless, watching Doyoung pad over to the window.

He can’t see the sea very well from the bed, but watching Doyoung stand by the window in Donghyuck’s t-shirt is an almost better view. It makes Donghyuck think about what it would be like to shove Doyoung up against that window, if he could fuck Doyoung against it, with the whole world beneath them—Donghyuck has to stop himself before his thoughts can wander. That’ll be for next time, if there’s a next time.

If. Donghyuck can’t swallow the worry that brews in his chest. Donghyuck can’t imagine tonight being a one time thing, and can only hope Doyoung feels the same about that.

He looks back up at Doyoung, watching the way his shirt pools around Doyoung’s thighs, eyes the dip into the arch of his back as he tilts his head back for a sip of wine.

“Come here,” Donghyuck asks quietly, but loud enough to alert Doyoung, who slowly makes his way back to bed. Donghyuck sets the tray with the wine cooler aside on the floor, thinking they’re not getting away with requesting a second change of sheets in case an accident happens.

Doyoung stops right in front of him, his knees grazing against Donghyuck’s shins where his legs hang over the side of the bed, smooth skin still hot to touch.

He takes another sip of wine, before setting the glass down on the nightstand, turning his full attention to Donghyuck. Doyoung’s hands find Donghyuck’s shoulders as he glances up to look at him, wet hair falling into his eyes.

Donghyuck molds his palms to Doyoung’s legs, admiring how pale they look against the dark gray of his sweatpants. Donghyuck pushes the hem of his t-shirt up to find Doyoung in only his briefs, pushing his thumb into one of the bruises high on Doyoung’s thigh, right by the edge of his underwear. Doyoung gasps, flinching away from his touch. Mesmerized, Donghyuck does it again, a different bruise, even higher up Doyoung’s thigh.

Doyoung groans, smacking Donghyuck’s wrist away, his shirt falling back over the mess of bruises Donghyuck left on his skin. “Stop doing that,” Doyoung hisses.

“Why?” Donghyuck asks, somewhat teasing but also confused. He doesn’t think it actually hurts, the bruises not even an hour old. He also doesn’t think Doyoung is that dramatic when it comes to pain—that’s more up Johnny and Jaehyun’s alleys, the big babies. He supposes it could be—oh. Oh.

Doyoung’s silence is answer enough—his averted gaze and flushed skin, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, head slightly hung. Doyoung likes it, the brief flash of pain, the marks, the semi-permanent brand of Donghyuck’s mouth on his skin.

Donghyuck laughs, delighted by the realization. “I like them too, you know,” he teases Doyoung, grinning up at him and watching him squirm under the attention. “You look pretty all marked up, hyung.”

“Shut up,” Doyoung groans into his palms, tone muffled but still embarrassed. Donghyuck needs to compliment him more, if he’s going to act like this.

Donghyuck’s hands slide back up the sides of Doyoung’s legs, his touch slow and heated, until they reach the hem of his shirt, mid-thigh. Donghyuck can’t help his grin as he rolls the cotton between two fingertips, tugging on the hem just to watch it bounce back up.

“This looks better on you, by the way,” Donghyuck comments, craning his neck to meet Doyoung’s eyes.

“‘s too big,” Doyoung counters, hands leaving his face, cheeks still hot, to play with the hair at Donghyuck’s neck, slightly curling at his nape now that it’s mostly dry.

Donghyuck drags his gaze down Doyoung’s front, from the stretched collar, marked up skin on display, to his pale thighs, smooth and begging for his mouth on them again. “No,” he counters, tongue pressing against his cheek as he tries not to say anything too stupid. “You look perfect.”

It still comes out too bare, too honest, too pleading. Donghyuck can’t tell Doyoung to take the shirt for himself, wear nothing but Donghyuck’s clothes around their house, love bites on display, no matter how badly he wants to. All he can do is savor the image, commit it to memory and pull it back out whenever he wants to think of this night—this weekend. Donghyuck doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop thinking about it, if he’s honest.

Doyoung’s cheeks are dusted pink from the compliment, his hair fluffy from being mindlessly toweled dry, his posture slumped towards Donghyuck, caving towards him like a magnet. He looks adorable, in a way that Donghyuck rarely gets to see; young, like all of the stress of their job and his life has washed away for just a moment.

“Perfect,” Donghyuck repeats under his breath, mostly for himself, as he reaches up for Doyoung’s neck to draw him down for a kiss, emotion and longing thick in his chest, even with Doyoung just inches away.

“Wait,” Doyoung says, wrapping thin fingers around Donghyuck’s wrist, stopping him in his place. “Hyuckie… we can’t make a habit of—of this,” Doyoung says, his expression disappointed, but his tone firm. “When we’re home, and everyone’s around…”

The sentence surprises Donghyuck; not because he didn’t already know that, he’s well aware of how things will change when they get back on that plane tomorrow, but because he feels like Doyoung is scolding him, using the same tone as when he nags Donghyuck about doing the dishes, using his hyung voice.

After everything this weekend, the last thing Donghyuck wants to feel like is Doyoung’s little brother. “I know,” Donghyuck says, hoping his voice doesn’t betray his emotions. “But we’re not home, and nobody’s around, and I can kiss you if I want to, because you can’t lie to me now. I know that you want this too.”

Perhaps his pride is wounded, or perhaps he just feels like he has something to prove, younger and less experienced, but Donghyuck does not wait for Doyoung’s answer before he wraps his fist into the stretched collar of his t-shirt, and tugs Doyoung’s mouth down to his own.

Doyoung gasps, a knee pressing into the mattress and his hands squeezing down on Donghyuck’s shoulders for stability, but he gives as good as he gets, kissing Donghyuck back just as hungry and tinged with desperation. Doyoung would never admit it, either embarrassed or prideful, but Donghyuck knows that he doesn’t want this weekend to end, either. Not when it feels this good, to be together. When it feels this right, with Doyoung in his lap, the taste of him on his tongue, their skin drenched in the same scents.

They kiss until time slows, creeping further up the bed until their legs are tangled under the covers. Donghyuck keeps fighting his own exhaustion, thinking that when he does close his eyes, when he wakes up tomorrow it’ll be over—they’ll be back to what they were.

He succumbs to it eventually, ending up on his side with Doyoung’s chest pressed up against his back. They’re sharing one of the five pillows on the bed, and they’re snuggled up so close that they’re hardly occupying more than Doyoung’s single bed in the dorm that they share sometimes.

Doyoung’s arm is stretched out under the pillow, his other warm around Donghyuck’s middle. Donghyuck can feel Doyoung’s breath grazing his neck from where he lies, the heat radiating from his body through Donghyuck’s shirt that he’s still wearing.

“Goodnight, Donghyuck-ah,” Doyoung whispers eventually, when they’ve been quiet for a while and Donghyuck feels his eyelids getting heavy. His lips make little butterfly kisses against Donghyuck’s skin as he speaks, but he ends it with a soft kiss.

“Goodnight,” Donghyuck returns, voice laced with sleep. He can’t see Doyoung like this, but he can feel the smile against his skin, as his eyes fall shut.

**

Donghyuck wakes up earlier than normal, the sun streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows, warm against his skin, a study in contrast against the cool sheets tangled between his bare legs. He groans, stretching his arms out wide until he’s starfishing on the bed—or, at least, until he hits something hard and warm, and a groan fills his ears.

Donghyuck cracks one eye open to find his arm slung across a long, slender neck, and two chocolate brown eyes staring down at him in annoyance. If Donghyuck had to guess, Doyoung’s expression would be from getting slapped across the throat at seven in the morning.

He tries to be apologetic, but Doyoung’s face soon falls into a smile.

“Good morning,” he says, sounding much more awake than Donghyuck feels.

“Morning,” Donghyuck returns, voice husky. Doyoung’s focus returns to his phone, a line creasing between his eyebrows, and Donghyuck pouts at the lack of attention. “What are you doing?” Donghyuck asks, pushing himself up onto his elbows to try and peer over at Doyoung’s phone. He catches a glimpse at a Yelp review page before Doyoung pulls his phone out of sight, and raises an eyebrow.

“Planning,” Doyoung murmurs, distracted. “I was thinking we could actually do something today so we have something to say when people ask what we did all weekend.”

Donghyuck considers it with a hum. He’d much rather just tell everyone point blank that they fucked all weekend, and watch the members roll their eyes like he’s lying. “Like what?” he asks.

Doyoung shrugs, his voice monotone as he lists off: “Go to the stone park, or the Haenyeo museum, or the Glass Castle, or—”

“Or Hello Kitty Island?” Donghyuck interjects.

“Or Hello Kitty Island,” Doyoung adds with a fond laugh, “or we could go to the beach, or—”

The beaches and museums and attractions all sound wonderful. Donghyuck really would do them all with Doyoung if he could, see every attraction Jeju has to offer. But they only have a few hours left together before they have to return to the real world, and Donghyuck knows exactly how he wants to spend them.

He pushes up into a sitting position with a groan, swinging his legs over Doyoung’s hips with a grunt of exertion. “Give me that,” he says, plucking Doyoung’s phone from his hands, probably easier than stealing candy from a baby. Doyoung’s hands slide over the tops of Donghyuck’s thighs, pushing the sheets away until there’s just skin against warm skin, chills falling in the wake of his gentle, teasing fingertips.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asks, eyes already dark as he stares up at Donghyuck on top of him, dark hair framing his face as he leans back against the pillow, messy and slightly curly from drying naturally the night before.

“Nothing,” Donghyuck lies with a grin, placing his free hand on Doyoung’s chest before leaning down to kiss him, his lips soft and slow, morning grogginess still hanging over them. Doyoung smiles against his mouth, letting Donghyuck have all of the control as they kiss, lazily at first until heat pulls at his core, Doyoung’s tongue teasing the seam of his lips for entry to lick behind his teeth.

“G’morning, Hyuckie,” Doyoung whispers against his lips, palm sliding across Donghyuck’s cheek as he moves to cup his face, gentle and intimate as the cold tip of Doyoung’s nose imprints on Donghyuck’s cheek.

“I’m starving—I’m gonna order us breakfast. What do you want?”

Donghyuck doesn’t need to think about it for very long. “You,” he decides, with a gleeful smile, Doyoung’s phone slipping out of his hand and onto the sheets next to them, disappearing into the comforter. Doyoung’s face changes from annoyed to very much flattered, cheeks a perfect red as he looks away to reach for the phone on the bedside table.

“Let me do that,” Donghyuck says, taking the phone out of Doyoung’s hands with his free hand.

“I can order for myself—” Doyoung starts, and he sounds the tiniest bit annoyed—not enough to push forward and actually get the phone back.

“The room’s in my name, remember?” I don’t want you to think about anything else but me, he thinks, something bitter searing in his chest. “What do you want?”

“The chocolate covered strawberries. And the pancakes. With bacon. And the eggs benedict… and a latte,” Doyoung lists at the top of his head, and of course he has his order memorized.

“Just because it’s charged to my card, doesn’t mean you get to milk me dry—”

Doyoung jabs at Donghyuck’s side, a ticklish ripple running up his spine resulting in a yelp the exact same moment someone answers the phone.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck clears his throat, doing his best to remember Doyoung’s order, listing it politely. “And—” he adds, after asking for two lattes, “—can we get a bottle of Champagne?”

“Donghyuck,” Doyoung berates him, but he doesn’t really push it any further than a playful whine, nuzzling forward to press his forehead against Donghyuck’s shoulder. Donghyuck feels the hint of a smile graze his bare skin, as Doyoung’s hands wander from his hips down to his thighs, thumbs brushing over the inside.

Donghyuck’s breathing falters, except he’s still on the phone waiting for the lady to confirm his order, and now Doyoung’s started rubbing slow circles to the inside of Donghyuck’s thighs. He’s incredibly sensitive, be it from the night they had or the fact that he just woke up, and Doyoung’s making it incredibly difficult to stay quiet.

“And can you send it up in like, an hour?” Donghyuck adds quickly.

Doyoung whines in protest, dragging his mouth across Donghyuck’s clavicle, up to his throat. “I’m hungry now.”

“Yep, that’s perfect. Thanks so much,” Donghyuck says through gritted teeth when she repeats his order back perfectly, finally hanging up the phone just in time for Doyoung’s tongue to drag across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. “You’re awful,” Donghyuck whines, head tilting back to give Doyoung more room to explore his neck.

“Me?” Doyoung asks conversationally, lips moving against Donghyuck’s skin before pressing a kiss to his pulse point. Donghyuck wonders if Doyoung can feel his heartbeat, feel what he does to Donghyuck with just a few kisses and the teasing sweep of his hands.

Donghyuck flattens his hands to Doyoung’s chest, pushing him back into the mattress with some force, or as much as he can muster, Doyoung’s phone still gripped in his right hand. “Yes, you,” Donghyuck says, scrunching his nose up. “You’re awful.”

It’s hard to say it with any sort of conviction, all too distracted by the way Doyoung’s staring at him—his lips parted, eyes half-lidded either with sleep or lust, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“I love it when you look at me like that,” Donghyuck comments, committing the look to memory.

“Like what?” Doyoung asks, continuing to stare at Donghyuck with a hungry sort of intensity in his gaze.

“Like you want to eat me for breakfast,” Donghyuck says, mostly joking but somewhat hoping Doyoung will take him up on the offer, now that Donghyuck’s given them the time to work up an appetite.

“I have a good view from down here,” Doyoung says with a lazy grin, dark eyes sweeping over Donghyuck’s body appreciatively, lingering on each part of him as warmth stirs in his gut from the pure desire behind Doyoung’s eyes. “Your smile, your skin, your thighs. God, Hyuck, you’ve got the prettiest thighs.”

Donghyuck blooms at the praise, his voice coming out rough, lust rippling through his blood. “You can fuck them if you want,” Donghyuck offers, squeezing Doyoung’s hips with his thighs to emphasize how much he means it. Donghyuck squirms until he can feel Doyoung’s cock under him, nestled up against his ass, still soft but hopefully not for long.

“Donghyuck!” Doyoung chokes out, eyes widening. He slaps Donghyuck’s thigh, which doesn’t necessarily help de-escalate the situation, Donghyuck’s cock filling out just the slightest at the sting of pain. “That mouth of yours…”

“You love it,” Donghyuck reminds him. No matter how much Doyoung protests, Donghyuck knows that he likes the teasing—secretly loves when Donghyuck plays with him like he’s older, takes charge, makes him squirm, pushes his buttons, makes him blush.

Donghyuck grins down at Doyoung, an idea formulating in his mind.

“What?” Doyoung asks, trepidation laced in his tone. “I know that look.”

“What look?”

“Your up to no good look.”

Donghyuck beams. “I’m always on my best behavior, hyung.”

“I didn’t know we were lying to each other now,” Doyoung says, squinting up at him in disbelief.

“I’ve never told a lie in my life,” Donghyuck responds easily, very much lying through his teeth. He lies all the time. Never for important things, if he can help it. But it’s too easy with Doyoung, when he believes almost everything Donghyuck says.

“I’ve seen clips of your fancalls, Hyuck. You lie all the time,” Doyoung says, matter-of-fact.

“Aw, you watch clips of my fancalls, Doyoung-hyung?” Donghyuck teases him, addicted to the way Doyoung immediately flushes, realizing his mistake. Donghyuck continues, because he can’t help himself, “I didn’t know you were such a fan.”

Doyoung glares at him, embarrassed, and Donghyuck fights the urge to coo. “I can’t win.”

“You just look so pretty blushing for me, hyung,” Donghyuck taunts him. “It’s hard to resist.” Something cool slips against his knee as he shifts, and Donghyuck remembers what he wanted to do. Donghyuck reaches back towards the comforter, and picks up Doyoung’s discarded phone.

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asks, as Donghyuck opens his phone to the camera. “Donghyuck…” Doyoung starts, trailing off as he puts together the pieces.

“Smile,” Donghyuck purrs, holding the phone in the air above him to get the best angle—Doyoung sprawled out under him, his toned stomach pale under the soft swell of Donghyuck’s thighs, the arc of bruises that Donghyuck left on his hip bones visible and damning, Donghyuck’s cock half-hard in his boxers at the bottom of the photo. Donghyuck opens the photo to look at it and whistles. On top of everything else there’s Doyoung’s hands, slender fingers and delicate veins, gripping his thighs, his grip possessive and strong. Donghyuck doesn’t think he has a hand kink, but for Doyoung he might. He lets out a low wolf whistle, and Doyoung immediately begins to squirm under him.

“Tell me you did not just take a photo,” Doyoung demands, eyes widening. Donghyuck stays perfectly silent; if he told Doyoung that he didn’t, he would be lying, and he just said he wasn’t a liar. Why prove himself wrong so soon? “Donghyuck,” Doyoung snaps, reaching for his wrist, only for Donghyuck to hold the phone out of reach.

“You look so pretty under me, I couldn’t resist,” Donghyuck says, turning the phone so Doyoung can see. “See how good you look right now?”

“Delete that,” Doyoung says roughly, reaching for the phone again only for Donghyuck to bat his hand away. “Donghyuck. Delete that.”

Donghyuck ignores him. “Maybe I should put it on bubble,” Donghyuck contemplates with a thoughtful hum, watching Doyoung’s eyes open impossibly wider, fighting harder to steal the phone, but struggling under the weight on top of him. Donghyuck grins, continuing, “Let the fans see how their Doyoungie looks all fucked out and pretty.”

“Give me that back,” Doyoung says, something wild in his tone.

“Hm… I don’t know, hyung… what do I get in return?” Donghyuck asks, phone still above his head and out of reach.

“Not getting fired?” Doyoung asks, exasperated.

Donghyuck clicks his tongue. “Not good enough.” He checks the time on Doyoung’s phone and smirks. “You’ve only got about forty five minutes now until room service comes. You better think of something good.”

Donghyuck waits out a beat of silence, watching the expression on Doyoung’s face change from simply annoyed, to something Donghyuck cannot quite decipher. It’s the calm before the storm, because the next moment Doyoung’s hands are on Donghyuck’s shoulders, and he’s shoving him backwards with more force than he anticipated, pushing him over onto his back. Donghyuck lets himself fall, air knocked out of his chest in surprise—gasping when he finally collides with the mattress, their positions now reversed, with Doyoung staring him down. Much to Doyoung’s annoyance, he’s still clutching the phone in his hand, holding onto his only lifeline.

“Why are you always so difficult,” Doyoung complains, but it doesn’t really sound like an objection—there’s fondness in there, and something else. He’s got both his hands on Donghyuck’s shoulders, pinning him down against the mattress as he eyes his phone, stretched out as far as Donghyuck can get it away from him.

“You like it,” Donghyuck teases back, but doesn’t feel quite as confident when he’s the one trapped underneath Doyoung, being stared at. Donghyuck didn’t wear a shirt to bed, and now Doyoung is sitting between his spread thighs, and the bulge of Donghyuck’s half-hard cock is becoming pretty obvious in his boxers.

“Do I?” Doyoung asks, as he leans forward a little, towering over Donghyuck. With their eyes locked like this, that daring expression on Doyoung’s face—almost like he’s inviting him to act up again, Donghyuck can’t help the way his thighs quiver, cock twitching in interest.

Donghyuck can’t do anything without surrendering Doyoung’s phone, not when Doyoung has him pinned down like this. He’s grasping at his last straw when he runs a hand up the inside of Doyoung’s arm.

“Are you ticklish here, hyung?” He wonders out loud, as he starts to scratch his nails over Doyoung’s bicep. Doyoung’s chest tightens, sucking in a sharp breath to contain himself.

“Sorry?” He asks, and perhaps it’s genuine—or maybe he’s just playing along.

“I said,” Donghyuck repeats, fingers skirting underneath the sleeve of his t-shirt, “are you ticklish?”

Donghyuck gets the answer to that question instantly, when he starts to dig his fingers into Doyoung’s bicep and Doyoung yelps, arms giving in as he collapses on top of Donghyuck. He’s heavy when he’s just dead weight on top of Donghyuck, and Donghyuck’ squirms underneath him, hand grasping at Doyoung’s arm in an attempt to push him off, the phone falling out of his hand and further down the mattress.

“Donghyuck,” Doyoung groans, and he sounds more upset than he looks, putting his arm over Donghyuck’s chest, elbow digging into the knot of his shoulder—Donghyuck effectively trapped underneath him as he sits back up. Using his arm to keep Donghyuck still underneath him, he carefully reaches forward, leaning over Donghyuck to reach for his phone. He’s got Donghyuck under control, with his arm trapped to his side, except Donghyuck has just enough wiggle room to get his hand up between their bodies, poking up to attack Doyoung’s belly button.

Doyoung actually screams, be it shock or frustration, Donghyuck doesn’t know, but he does hope these walls are as sound proof as they were promised. Doyoung rolls off him, instinctively curling in on himself, and Donghyuck uses his moment of weakness to roll over onto his front, crawling up the mattress to grab Doyoung’s phone again.

And just when his fingers are about to close around it, he feels Doyoung’s hands on his shoulder to yank him back, before he’s squished flat into the bed, Doyoung’s leg bent and hitched up over his ass, his full body weight pressing him down.

“Hyung,” Donghyuck whines in protest, putting on his best pouty tone. “Hyung, you’re so heavy,” he complains, with a theatrical gasp that Doyoung doesn’t buy anymore.

Easily, Doyoung reaches over to pat the phone away. Neither of them watch it fall off the bed, because Doyoung’s using his grip on Donghyuck’s shoulders to hitch himself up, completely covering Donghyuck’s body with his own. Their legs are sprawled out together, thighs pressed snug against one another, the heat of Doyoung’s skin almost scorching against Donghyuck’s own.

Silence ensues as their breathing evens out, Donghyuck can feel every single breath Doyoung takes with his chest pressed firm against his back. Just as Donghyuck’s about to complain, tell Doyoung to get off him, Doyoung moves until he’s supporting his weight on his forearms, and ever so slowly drags his hips over Donghyuck’s.

Donghyuck tenses up when he feels Doyoung’s cock against the soft swell of his ass, stifling a silent gasp when Doyoung drags his hips back down, the minimal friction torturously slow but just enough for Donghyuck to know Doyoung’s into it too. Doyoung repeats the action, grinding his hips down against Donghyuck’s, who can’t do anything but lie there, take the excruciating tease of pleasure as his own cock drags against the mattress.

“What are you—” Donghyuck starts to ask, cut off when Doyoung shoves his hips down particularly harsh, something he must have done on purpose to shut him up. “Shit, hyung, I’m—”

“You said I could fuck your thighs, hm?” Doyoung muses, and Donghyuck’s breath gives out as he buries his face in the duvet. “Would you like that? Use your words, Hyuckie.”

“Please,” Donghyuck whines, lifting his head to get the words out, “yes, please, I want that—”

Doyoung moves off him, and Donghyuck tries not to miss the weight of him, the heat of their bodies pressed together. Before he gets a chance to, there’s a hand either side of his hips, yanking him up until he’s on his knees, elbows digging into the mattress to support himself.

“Stay like that,” Doyoung tells him, with a soft pat to Donghyuck’s hips. Donghyuck feels the mattress move behind him, and hears Doyoung grab something from the nightstand. The telltale sound of lube uncapping makes Donghyuck’s belly tense, fingers grasping at the pillow in anticipation.

“Take these off for me,” Doyoung hums, pulling at the elastic of Donghyuck’s boxers. It snaps against his skin, a short sting rippling up his spine. He faceplants into the pillow as he reaches back to help himself out of the last of his clothing. It’s a less than smooth maneuver, but Donghyuck forgets all about it when Doyoung’s hand holds the back of his thigh.

Donghyuck hisses at the cold when Doyoung lathers his thighs up in lube, one hand on Donghyuck’s hip to keep him in place.

“Squeeze tight,” Doyoung whispers, hands framing the outsides of Donghyuck’s thighs as he pushes them together, his thighs slipping against the mess of lube, the position near impossible to hold with his knees so close together. Donghyuck obeys as well as he can, squeezing his legs together for Doyoung to fuck into.

It’s an odd feeling at first, Doyoung’s cock rubbing up against the back of Donghyuck’s legs instead of his hole, but the punch of Doyoung’s cock as he fucks Donghyuck’s thighs still makes him gasp. Doyoung’s hips slam into his ass as he pushes into the tight heat of Donghyuck’s legs, the motion jolting Donghyuck’s body forward, his aching cock slapping against his stomach.

“Fu-uck,” Doyoung groans, taking a shaky breath as his fingertips dig into Donghyuck’s hips, dimpling the soft flesh. “Just like that, baby,” Doyoung moans, when Donghyuck’s muscles clench around the head of his cock. “Fuck you feel so good.”

“Give it to me, hyung,” Donghyuck pants, fingertips gripping into the sheets as he tries to hold himself still, tight, obedient. “I’m not going to break.”

Doyoung doesn’t waste any more time before rolling his hips forward again, picking up a rhythm much faster than the pace Donghyuck fucked him the night before.

“I didn’t—” Doyoung pants, his hand sliding over Donghyuck’s spine, pushing him deeper into the mattress. “I didn’t think it would be this—shit—tight.”

Donghyuck blooms at the praise, the surprise in Doyoung’s tone, the pleasure ringing through his every word. Donghyuck wants it to be good for him, wants to be pretty and pliant and—

The thought is ripped from Donghyuck’s mind as Doyoung’s hand grips into his hair, hard enough to sting, and pulls him back up to all fours. Donghyuck nearly loses balance as he curses, hands flying out to keep himself up, the grip Doyoung has on his hip keeping him steady.

“Hyung, please,” Donghyuck whines, his dick so hard it’s throbbing, hung between his legs, untouched. “Please, please, Doyoung-hyung,” Donghyuck repeats, letting himself whine loud and unabashedly because he knows Doyoung loves it when he whines, even if he pretends like he doesn’t. Right when Donghyuck thinks that the lack of attention on his cock is going to kill him, Doyoung’s hand snakes around his hip to jerk him off in sync with each snap of his hips, the clench of his fist wet and tight and overwhelming.

Doyoung’s fist twists around the head of Donghyuck’s cock, slow and cruel, and Donghyuck feels his thighs begin to tremble

Doyoung’s palm lands across his ass when he’s least expecting it, the slap ringing through his ears before the sharp glance of pain sings in his blood. Donghyuck’s head drops on a wrecked moan, and the view is obscene—the tip of Doyoung’s cock is dark red and flushed as it pushes between his thighs, the lube covered tip disappearing between the press of Donghyuck’s thighs with every stroke.

“Close,” Doyoung pants, his breath hot against Donghyuck’s back. Donghyuck isn’t far behind him, the combined stimulus of Doyoung using his body to get off, and the pressure from his fist on Donghyuck’s cock about to push him over the edge. “You’re gonna make me—Oh, fuck.”

Doyoung’s body sags over Donghyuck’s back as he comes, shooting between Donghyuck’s thighs and making a mess, his come on Donghyuck’s stomach, his knees, the sheets they just had changed the night before.

“Are you clo—wait. Flip over,” Doyoung asks, or demands, really, using the grip he has on Donghyuck’s hip to flip him onto his back, a gasp punching out of him at the maneuver. With how much control Doyoung gives up in sex, Donghyuck almost forgot that he really is stronger than him, his muscles lean but toned, the swell of his biceps bulging at the effort.

“Christ, Doyoung,” Donghyuck laughs, the breath knocked out of him as he stares at Doyoung in wonder. The laughter quickly falls off of his tongue into a choked moan, just seconds later, when Doyoung drops to his stomach between his wet thighs and sucks the head of Donghyuck’s cock into his mouth. “Oh my fucking—”

Doyoung’s mouth is small and wet and so damn hot, and if Donghyuck thought fucking Doyoung’s fist felt good, his mouth is a whole different story. Doyoung hums as he sucks him down, sending delicious vibrations down the length of his shaft, all the way to the hilt. He pulls back up in a slow, tight glide of his lips, tongue licking over his tip until Donghyuck’s legs are twitching at the stimulation, every nerve ending in his dick lit on fire. Donghyuck’s eyes squeeze shut as he sobs out moan after moan through clenched teeth, his abs tightening as he tries not to fuck Doyoung’s throat. Instead, he lets Doyoung set the pace, bobbing his head slowly up and down the length of Donghyuck’s cock, the pace torturously drawn out after how eagerly Doyoung fucked his thighs. Doyoung is meticulous, even when giving head.

Donghyuck struggles to breathe as Doyoung’s mouth sinks until his nose is brushing the short-cropped hair at the base of Donghyuck’s cock, gagging lightly as it touches the back of his throat, tears in his eyes and drool down his chin, absolutely wrecked and more beautiful than anything Donghyuck could dream up.

Donghyuck’s vision starts to blur as an orgasm builds inside of him, a tidal wave rising, and rising, and rising, and—

“Hyung, wait, I’m—” Donghyuck tries, but the warning doesn’t come fast enough, his dick slipping from Doyoung’s lips right as he shoots, painting Doyoung’s face, and hair, and collarbones in come before he can get out of the way.

Doyoung coughs, wiping his face and chest with the already ruined sheets, his curses falling on deaf ears as Donghyuck rides out his orgasm until he’s staring at the ceiling, buzzing from head to toe.

“You are the worst,” Doyoung groans, giving up on getting himself clean as he rolls on top of Donghyuck and burying his head in his chest.

Donghyuck grins, sated and drunk on pleasure and more than a little bit amused. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, unable to stop using the pet name now that he knows Doyoung likes it. Donghyuck pushes his hands through Doyoung’s now gross hair, scratching his nails over his scalp the way he likes and grinning to himself. “Just wanted an excuse to get you in the bath again.”

**

Room service comes before the bath is even half-full, and the idea of getting clean is scrapped the second they smell the bacon.

Their breakfast is eaten on the floor by the coffee table—devoured, really—knees pressed together and hearts still beating a little too fast, syrup-sticky fingers intertwined over the fancy hotel carpet as they talk about everything and nothing. It’s just easy between them. They steal sips of each other’s coffees despite ordering the same thing, and argue about favorite characters from shows they watched growing up, and rehash the same arguments they have at home.

It’s refreshing, really, for Donghyuck to listen to Doyoung nag him about how he needs to stop gaming so late, as if they hadn’t stayed up until some ungodly hour the night before having sex. Most of all, it comforts Donghyuck in knowing that things haven’t changed—not between them.

“Hyung?” Donghyuck asks, as he steals another sip from Doyoung’s drink. Doyoung hums for him to go on. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” Doyoung nods, “anything.”

Donghyuck snorts. “You still have come in your hair.”

“Brat,” Doyoung hisses, raising his hand as if he’s about to throw the strawberry at Donghyuck. Donghyuck wouldn’t mind, last time they fought over Doyoung’s phone it ended well—but this time Doyoung gets to his feet, storming into the bathroom.

He takes a while to get ready, and Donghyuck waits (im)patiently on the bed, the good side that has yet to be covered in bodily fluids. He’s stretched out comfortably, all five pillows used to build a backrest for himself.

“Come back to bed,” Donghyuck whines.

“It’s your fault I’m such a mess,” Doyoung throws back at him from the bathroom.

“I’ll make you even more of a mess,” Donghyuck promises, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. Doyoung glances back at him through the open doors, and shoots him an unimpressed look. Donghyuck deflates, going for puppy dog eyes instead. “Just come cuddle me. Please?”

“I will, just give me five more—”

Doyoung’s sentence is cut off by the unmistakable buzzing of his phone on top of the mattress. Donghyuck flips the phone over, checking who it is before he accidentally answers Doyoung’s phone to a stranger.

“Oh, It’s TY,” Donghyuck announces, snickering at the photo Doyoung has him saved under and trying not to be stupidly jealous at the heart saved next to his name. It makes him wonder what he’s saved under, but he’ll investigate that later.

“Do not answer that,” Doyoung warns, mouth now full of toothpaste.

Donghyuck laughs, sliding his thumb across the screen to answer the phone. Because of course he is going to answer the phone, how could he resist?

“Hello, Doyoung’s phone. Donghyuck speaking, how can I help you?” Donghyuck answers, doing his best impression of what he imagines working in customer service would be like.

“Oh, hey, Hyuckie. What are you up to?” Taeyong asks, something splashing in the background of the call that oddly makes Donghyuck think he’s feeding his small army of fish.

“Oh, you know,” Donghyuck muses, sighing into the phone, dramatic as he can muster. “Just having nasty disrespectful sex. The usual.”

Doyoung’s head pokes around the corner of the bathroom, horror written into the chocolate brown of his eyes, and Donghyuck grins. Taeyong, predictably, laughs out loud at his words, his trademarked hiccups of laughter filling Donghyuck’s ear.

“What did you just say?” Doyoung hisses from across the room, eyes still wide.

Donghyuck ignores him. “Funny,” Taeyong retorts, like Donghyuck was joking in the slightest. “What time will you guys be back, do you think?”

“What, Taeyong-hyung, miss me already?” Donghyuck grins, biting his thumb nail before remembering he’s trying to break that habit and shoving his hand back under the covers.

“Sure I do. Can you put Doyoung on the phone, please?” Taeyong asks kindly, not one to give into Donghyuck’s teasing quite like Doyoung does.

“Hm,” Donghyuck hums, craning his neck to look through the door, only to find Doyoung with his head in the sink. “I don’t know. I think he’s washing come out of his hair.”

“Donghyuck!” Doyoung screams over the sound of rushing water.

“Donghyuck,” Taeyong sighs, that of a disappointed parent, likely thinking that he doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this shit. “Fine. Have him call me back, then.”

“I will,” Donghyuck promises, “after I’m done with him—”

“Goodbye,” Taeyong says promptly, before Donghyuck can make this conversation any worse or test his patience another inch.

Donghyuck gets out of bed to return Doyoung’s phone, putting it down next to him where he’s trying to towel dry his hair before turning to sit on the edge of the tub, somewhat uncomfortable but still better than standing on tired legs.

“You should get changed,” Doyoung says, turning towards him and gesturing down at the robe Donghyuck is still in, “and get cleaned up.”

Donghyuck thinks about it, frowning when he realizes he’s going to have to basically towel his whole body off, dried come and lube on nearly every inch of his lower body. “Too much work. Do it for me, hyung,” he begs, only mostly kidding as he lets his voice rise to something saccharine and pleading.

Doyoung sighs, crossing the bathroom until he’s standing in front of Donghyuck, between his legs, Donghyuck’s eyes in line with his chest. “You could say please, you know,” Doyoung comments, arms crossed over his chest as he looks down at Donghyuck.

“Please?” Donghyuck asks, once again pulling out the puppy dog eyes, pouting up at Doyoung with his hands tied together in his lap, over the soft terry cloth of his fancy hotel robe.

“Okay,” is all Doyoung responds, his voice a pleasant neutral hum as he reaches between them with nimble fingers and tugs at the knot at Donghyuck’s waist until the robe falls open.

Donghyuck’s eyebrows raise, but he lets Doyoung undress him without another word. He didn’t expect Doyoung to actually help him get cleaned up, but here he is—kneeling on the hard tile before him, the jeans he changed into stretching tight over his thighs, torso leaned over the rim of the tub to turn the water on low, getting a towel wet under the hot stream.

Doyoung is methodical as he wipes at Donghyuck’s thighs, making sure to be gentle with the sensitive skin, cleaning him up and wringing the rag in between sweeps, washing all of the evidence of the morning down the drain. It’s the third—fourth?—time that Donghyuck has been naked for Doyoung over the course of the weekend, but somehow, miraculously, it doesn’t get charged between them. If Doyoung wasn’t leaving small pecks over the length of Donghyuck’s legs as he got them cleaned up, the process would almost be clinical. A Doyoung with a task at hand is not a Doyoung to be deterred until it’s done.

And when he is done, Donghyuck is as clean as he can be without actually getting in the shower, toweled dry by Doyoung’s careful hands. Doyoung pushes up off of his knees with a groan, crossing the bathroom to the sink where his dopp kit is splayed open, impressively organized compared to Donghyuck’s borrowed bag filled with thrown in items.

“What are you looking for?” Donghyuck asks, shivering as the air blows over his bare skin, jealous of how warm Doyoung looks, but unwilling to leave the bathroom to grab his clothes if it means not getting to savor the calm between them, the gentle, intimate understanding that’s just natural between lovers.

“My lotion,” Doyoung hums, looking through one more bag before clicking his tongue, satisfied. “A-ha. There we go.”

Doyoung returns to him, getting back on his knees before him as he clicks the cap open, squeezing the lotion out onto his palms, humming a song that Donghyuck can’t place. “Might be cold,” Doyoung warns him, hands spreading over Donghyuck’s thighs, rubbing in slow circles until the lotion rubs in, the scent of citrus and herbs filling the air, sweet and so very Doyoung. It’s different than earlier, when Doyoung smeared lube between his thighs without a care, every touch now determined and careful.

Doyoung’s touch lingers even after the lotion is melted into his skin, his chin resting on Donghyuck’s knee for a few quiet moments before he reluctantly stands back up. Doyoung helps Donghyuck to his feet with a soft tug, pulling until he’s pressed against his front, Doyoung’s arm slung low around his waist, fingertips in a dimple low on Donghyuck’s back.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Donghyuck murmurs, reaching up to drag his thumb over Doyoung’s cheek before giving him a kiss, wet and indulgent.

“Any time,” Doyoung answers without thought, blushing in retrospect when he realizes the connotation of offering to lotion up Donghyuck’s naked body at any time he wants it.

“I’ll take you up on that,” Donghyuck says with a wink, giving Doyoung one more peck before stepping out of his arms, too cold to continue the conversation naked.

Doyoung follows him into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as Donghyuck tugs on his warmest sweatshirt, something way too big that he thinks he stole from Taeil years ago.

“Donghyuck?”

“Hm?” Donghyuck looks over his shoulder to find Doyoung looking all too serious, staring at his hands, fingers laced together over his knees, lost in thought. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to…well… I wanted to say sorry, I guess? If before, you know, earlier… if that wasn’t something you wanted. I don’t know. Or if it was too much, you know the, the—”

‘The thigh fucking or slapping my ass?’ Donghyuck wants to ask. He holds it in, though, knowing that if Doyoung is asking—or apologizing, really—it’s because he needs to make sure that they’re on the same page. Donghyuck is happy to give him reassurance, even if it means that he has to give up the opportunity to watch Doyoung blush at the reminder that he slapped Donghyuck’s ass earlier.

“Doyoung,” Donghyuck says, his tone slipping into something somewhat stern as he drops the honorific. He wants Doyoung to know how serious he is. Donghyuck might joke around with him every chance that he gets, but he’s serious about this. About them. “It could never be too much. Not with you. Never with you.”

“I just, I don’t know, Hyuck,” Doyoung laughs, shaking his head before looking back up at him. “Guess I just don’t want to scare you away.”

It’s cute, it’s too cute, as Doyoung stares up at him with big, round eyes, his mouth pursed together and his heart on a silver platter. Donghyuck can’t help himself.

“Hyung, be honest…” Donghyuck says, crossing the room as a stupid, giddy grin crosses his face. “Do you have a crush on me?”

A laugh startles out of Doyoung, but his face twists into annoyance as Donghyuck sits down next to him, twining their fingers together. “Not anymore,” Doyoung deadpans, moving to stand up and leave Donghyuck and his ridiculousness alone on their ruined bed.

“Stop,” Donghyuck laughs, tugging Doyoung’s hand until he sits back down. “Stop. Sorry. I’ll be serious,” Donghyuck promises, actually meaning it. Or trying to mean it.

“We don’t have to be,” Doyoung shrugs, taking his hand back and wrapping his arms around his knees, pulling them up onto the edge of the bed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to ruin the weekend talking about, I don’t know… feelings…” Doyoung starts, sheepish, like he thinks Donghyuck doesn’t want to know his every idea and feeling and fleeting thought.

“You’re not ruining anything, hyung,” Donghyuck promises, poking Doyoung’s side. “That sentence felt like there was a but coming,” Donghyuck prompts him, chewing on his bottom lip and hoping that Doyoung isn’t about to crush him.

“But… I don’t know. It’s just… this is insane, you know—what we did. This trip. Last night, this morning, I—” Doyoung sounds overwhelmed as he recalls everything, his voice light and frustrated.

“But you wanted it—” Donghyuck starts to argue, ignoring the pang in his chest at what’s starting to sound like rejection.

“When will you let me finish my sentences?” Doyoung asks, effectively not letting Donghyuck finish his sentence either. “I was saying, it’s—it’s crazy, but somehow this is also the most normal I’ve felt in years.”

Normal. To anyone that would sound boring. Normal is plain, you never aim for normal—if someone else told Donghyuck that he made them feel normal, he would be upset. But this is Doyoung, and he knows Doyoung—and even just the slightest resemblance of normalcy is a luxury they can rarely afford as idols.

But it’s something Donghyuck has given him, and it’s something Doyoung never fails to make Donghyuck feel either.

It’s what Donghyuck tried not to think about last night, when they had dinner together at some small local restaurant, when they smiled at each other across the table and when Doyoung tried to hide the redness in his cheeks whenever Donghyuck said something that made him laugh. It almost felt normal, like Donghyuck was on a real date with someone he liked. The butterflies felt the same, and that warm feeling of basking in the presence of someone you like stayed all night, all morning—somehow doesn’t go away when he’s around Doyoung.

And if things were normal, that would mean something—something Donghyuck would have to get off his chest, something truthful and vulnerable to say. But things aren’t normal, and therefore all Donghyuck can do is squeeze Doyoung’s hand in reassurance.

“Any time,” Donghyuck says, remembering how Doyoung had said the same thing before—hoping that he’ll take him up on it too.

“Now come on,” Doyoung urges him, after a smile wears off his face, “get up, we actually still have the whole day left.”

**

Donghyuck rocks back and forth on his feet impatiently.

“What is it?” Doyoung asks from the other side of the door. He sounds sleepy—or his voice is just muffled by the wall between them. Donghyuck wouldn’t blame him if he was tired—he feels the same.

“Hyung, it’s me,” Donghyuck says, twisting the doorknob just an inch before he asks, “can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung answers, from the cocoon of blankets that Donghyuck sees as soon as he opens the door. He hadn’t really expected anything else but this familiar sight of Doyoung cozied up on his own bed, tablet playing a TV show.

“I was just wondering,” Donghyuck says, as he carefully closes the door behind him, “if I could borrow your lotion. My skin is still so dry from the sea and—”

“Of course you can,” Doyoung says, sitting up in bed. His hair is a mess, flattened out against his forehead yet sticking up in the back where he’s been curled up on his pillow. For a split second, Donghyuck thinks of what he looked like last night—but that feels very far away when he’s standing here in their dorm. “It’s on my desk, help yourself.”

So Donghyuck does just that, going over to Doyoung’s desk to help himself to the sweet citrusy cream Doyoung had put on him earlier. He puts his foot up on the chair by Doyoung’s desk to rub the lotion into his skin.

When he’s finished he screws the lid back on, putting the bottle down as he looks back at Doyoung, who is still watching him. “What?”

“C’mere,” Doyoung says, motioning with his free hand as he crunches up into a half seated position. “Turn around for me.”

Donghyuck frowns, but does as he’s told, standing with his back now facing Doyoung. “You’ve still got a bit of lotion right—” Doyoung’s hand swipes over the top of his thigh, just where his shorts start, and then down the inside of it, “—there.”

“Thanks,” Donghyuck chuckles, although he feels the touch linger on the inside of his thigh as he turns back around. “I’m going to sleep now.”

“Alright, sleep tight Donghyuck-ah,” Doyoung hums, patting Donghyuck’s hip affectionately to send him off.

“Goodnight, hyung.”