EXPLICIT // body worship, so many feelings, SO MANY, yet there is absolutely zero plot to be found, mark is a cosmology major, lots of references to stars physics stuff the universe shit like that, self indulgent

—

It’s not like Mark’s never seen them before, there’s so many it’s impossible not to.

Gomeisa and Procyon on the right, Ursa Minor’s ladle on the left. Stretch them out a little and there’s Polaris sitting pretty in the middle of his neck.

Constellations live on Donghyuck’s skin like a welcoming sketch of where Mark should touch, and Mark’s always seen them, but never looked, not really.

He notices there’s some on his thighs too, outer and inner, littering down and down until the bony frame of his ankles. Ara. Cygnus. Pictor. The Southern Celestial Hemisphere’s Corona Australis.

Mark blinks twice, the sight of three pretty little moles under Donghyuck’s left hip bone imprinting on his memory. Pyxis.

“They’re all over you, huh.”

It comes out as a mumble, a passing thought, even though it isn’t. Donghyuck finishes getting dressed and Mark finally stops staring.

“Hyung? Did you say something?”

Donghyuck walks over to him in the dark, settling beside him all cozy and warm with his gangly limbs wrapped around Mark. Mark pulls him in even closer and pretends not to hear the question.

That day Mark dreams of constellations, the same ones from his university mandated astronomy book.

Further into the night, he dreams of Donghyuck.

—

“Just.”

Donghyuck has Dark Matter in ten minutes and the building his class is in is three Bohemian Rhapsody repeats away. He’s hurrying getting dressed but he still takes a moment to narrow his eyes at Mark.

“Just what, hyung?”

“I just wanna check.”

Donghyuck’s always had a talent of making anything Mark asks for sound ridiculous. This is the first time Mark can’t think of any reason to pass the blame.

The bed creaks when he sits. Mark can smell the powdery rose petal perfume he splurged on last week. He mumbles a snippy it’s like you want me to strip for you, pervert but flowers pale pink and pulls up the bottom hem of his shirt anyway.

Mark makes a low noise of protest when Donghyuck reminds him he still has class but doesn’t say anything.

There’s no struggle when Mark drags his tongue hungry ready against Donghyuck’s neck. Mark starts slow, tracing out his asterisms, drawing over him with the warm spit that’s pooled in his mouth.

Donghyuck’s reluctant mockery of Mark saying he just wanted to check evolves into a litany of that feels nice, feels good, I’m gonna miss my class, hyung in a matter of minutes.

“I can’t be late, hyung.”

It sounds like a plea more than anything else. Mark doesn’t realize he’s bracketed Donghyuck in until Donghyuck’s curling nimble fingers into his hair, huffing out kitten whimpers while Mark goes to town on his chest.

Donghyuck tastes better the more Mark kisses him. The thin sheen of salt washed over him when unwrapped exposes a more delicate, specific blend that Mark can recognize anywhere.

Mark swirls his tongue around an itty bitty nipple and groans when Donghyuck ballerina arches into his mouth.

It’s twenty minutes past nine when Mark finally lets him go.

Donghyuck’s too pretty by then. Pretty like the meticulously decorated stars tattooed on his skin. His hair’s ruined from where Mark’s pulled on it but Donghyuck doesn’t seem to mind.

Mark ghosts over the flat of his tits and feels his throat close up when Donghyuck breathes out his name.

“Play hooky?”

He hears humor in his own voice but it’s too shaky to be convincing. Donghyuck grumbles something threatening and hits him on the arm.

Mark just likes how Donghyuck’s moles look on him, honestly. He doesn’t really feel like there’s anything different. Neither of them understand what’s going on with Mark yet.

“Is this gonna be a thing? You’re gonna make me skip all my classes?”

Mark laughs. Donghyuck’s still Donghyuck, just with his own collection of galaxies all over him. Mark considers there’s nothing more to it.

“Maybe.”

He feels a yes bubbling inside him though, like a craving he hasn’t satisfied yet. He knows it’s there, lurking. He just doesn’t tell Donghyuck about it.

—

Donghyuck never sleeps on his stomach. He’s always spread out, confident on his back, limbs askew on his bed.

When they were kids, he used to smush himself as far away from Mark as possible whenever they’d have their Discovery Channel binge night sleepovers, but that was because he didn’t want his hyung to see him drool when he’s sleeping.

A decade later and Donghyuck molds against him in a perfect fit, mumbling a croaky are you Mark hyung? before nuzzling against his neck. Mark would rub the small of his back and watch him dissolve into a million pieces.

Some nights Mark would kiss him. Flimsy light on the top of his head, after Donghyuck answers his own question with a murmury smells like Mark hyung before drifting off to sleep again.

In the hours between curfew and sunrise Donghyuck stays the most honest, lips chasing after Mark’s like he’s been ignited by a quick good night peck, curling himself close like Mark’s being pulled away.

Mark doesn’t wake him fully anymore after Donghyuck elbowed him in the gut in a dawn rendezvous gone wrong one time, but it’s different tonight. His shirt rides up when he wraps his arms around Mark and something in Mark breaks.

He really just needs to look.

“Hyuck? Baby?”

It takes a few more hoarse whispers before Donghyuck stirs, grumbling an annoyed hyung, I’m trying to sleep against his shoulder.

“Hyuck.”

“What?” comes the pissy reply. “What do you— oh.”

Donghyuck doesn't do much save for whine and squirm. He has this trick he always pulls, when he would peer up at Mark all googly eyed and just watch, sighing gentle encouragements because he knows it’ll make Mark want to devour him whole. It still works.

Mark pushes his shirt up even further. He grazes his palm along the satin smooth plane of Donghyuck’s belly and maps out all the galaxies he can see.

He leans down, licks and keeps licking until Donghyuck’s body is damp, until his tongue is numb and all he can taste is flesh and the collapsed remnants of Donghyuck’s skin.

There’s a wet spot on Donghyuck’s shorts when Mark closes his palm around his dick but it’s the shy fractured moan he hears that really gets to him.

Mark shifts up and ruts the hard line in his pajamas against Donghyuck’s thigh until Donghyuck’s nipples are gumdrops stiff through the fabric.

“Hyung.”

Donghyuck thrives on patterns. That’s how Mark got to know him. And that’s why he still virgin jerks the same way he did when Mark first touched him. Still clings as hard when he wants to be fucked.

The brilliant boy who’s lightyears ahead of Mark into getting sniped by CERN sheds into a whimper loaded mess when Mark gets his way with him.

Mark digs his fingers against the curve of his hips and imagines all the stars in Donghyuck’s part of the cosmos nobody else gets to see—

Dips his tongue between the unlocked seam of his lips and kisses an apology into his mouth until Donghyuck’s letting out a whine that makes his spine shake, the same whine he uses to get Mark to do virtually anything.

Donghyuck doesn’t really ask for much, just humps Mark’s leg while Mark gropes the perky hill of his bubble butt. He’ll either give up or tug on Mark’s shirt so he could help him.

Mark scoops him airtight into his arms when he slows down and lets him tremble against his chest until he’s close to dreaming again.

He’s so wet he’s seeping through the flannel over Mark’s thigh.

“You wanna change into different pjs first, baby?”

Donghyuck would never admit it but he likes the pet names. Mark can wrap his equation calloused fist around his dick but it’s the angel face he dirty prays into Donghyuck’s ear that’ll set him into flames.

He’s so perfect.

“No.”

Mark whispers a quiet okay and waits for him to fall asleep.

—

“Do you know how many there are in total?”

“I don’t count them, hyung.”

Two hundred pages deep in his Quantum Physics book, Donghyuck’s pajama top rides up his tailbone when he shifts on his tummy and Mark feels his insides light up like a man possessed. It’s gotten worse. Donghyuck knows. It’s not enough to just look anymore.

Donghyuck barely makes a sound when Mark scrapes his eager hands against the arch of his back. He pulls away just enough to let Donghyuck turn over, the shiny black buttons on his shirt hanging by a thread as the fabric digs against his abdomen and hikes up his shoulder blade.

Donghyuck says a regretful I shouldn’t have enabled you and that’s all Mark hears before he pops his top open.

“There’s so many,” Mark whispers, sliding the silk aside until it’s hanging onto his shoulders.

Mark leans in to kiss the rest of Donghyuck’s complaints away and then he’s pulling back, pressing his lips against the Little Dipper puzzle on his face.

Mark kisses his Canis Minor too, kisses the side of his throat, counts four, six, eight, ten, twelve until he’s on the mole below the north star on his neck.

Mark draws his mouth against the connect the dots constellations down his chest until Donghyuck’s fidgeting under him, Physics forgotten, giving into him as easy as sinking a finger through a sheet of talc and watching it slip apart under pressure.

Mark sits up. Touches, delicately, like Donghyuck’s porcelain prone to breaking. Cut flower soft and liquid gold underneath his fingertips, not even the softest mineral on earth feels more fragile than Donghyuck.

“You okay now? Got it out of your system?”

Donghyuck looks annoyed but he still lets Mark do whatever, honestly. Mark thinks it’s a result of his pining all those years. Sometimes Donghyuck’s strongman facade falls and he acts like he still can’t believe Mark likes him.

“Yeah. I’ll eat you out next time.”

It sounds like a promise because it is. Donghyuck flushes vermillion red and mumbles for him to at least not do it while he’s studying.

—

Donghyuck gets invited to go to Geneva but it’s Mark who reaps the benefits.

A happy Donghyuck is always the most secretive.

He pushes Mark’s books away until there’s a repetitive thud on the floor and then he’s pulling him in, giddy and beaming after Mark gives him one of those wet tongued, boyfriend kisses he really likes. He’s sweat slicked and desperate by the time Mark nips at his jaw.

The best way to draw truths out of him is to make him even happier, Mark found that out a few years back.

“Do you really like them that much?”

There’s only the two of them in their room but Donghyuck whispers like someone else will hear him. Mark whispers too, just to see the pink panther flush spread all warm on his pretty face.

“Yeah.”

Donghyuck rewards him with shaky fingers around the wrist that guide him into feeling him up.

Donghyuck’s so soft everywhere. And smooth, probably because of the lotion Mark gives him every Christmas.

Mark palms greedily over his body until Donghyuck’s favorite tie dye shirt’s bunched up against his armpits and only relents when Donghyuck has his eyes squeezed shut to savor it.

Donghyuck likes being kissed. Almost as much as he likes being touched. Mark does both as he trails his lips down the lukewarm flat of his stomach.

Mark’s welcomed by one, two, three stars again when he pulls his waistband down. Donghyuck’s eyes flutter open when Mark gives the leaky tip of his dick a soft suck, and then he’s pulling him up, tasting himself in Mark’s mouth.

I like that you like them is what Donghyuck mumbles and Mark gives him the same fleecy, subdued kiss he gave him the day Donghyuck confessed his ten year long crush.

“Ah, hyung.”

Donghyuck’s a creature of habit. Squirms and whimpers the same for Mark to do more, too impatient to wait so he gasps out hurry up, hyung before Mark even gets one finger in. His diamond smooth voice is already broken but Mark doesn’t fuck him. Not today.

Every twitch and shudder Mark memorizes, every sharp inhale he collects like the shiny medals Donghyuck has displayed in his mom’s hometown living room.

Twenty minutes past Donghyuck getting his email Mark kneels like he’s begging for forgiveness—

Tongue digging into the tight little pinhole of Donghyuck’s ass while Donghyuck cries sweaty and bubblegum pink into his cosmic latte pillow, huffing out in broken gasps how it’s so good, so good, don’t stop, hyung. Mark never breaks his promises.

“Oh— oh god—”

Donghyuck stains the bed untouched and Mark tongue fucks his pretty pink hole all through it, spit dripping down his chin and neck like the hungry unyielding prick Donghyuck always manages to bring out of him. Donghyuck likes it when Mark gets desperate.

Donghyuck goes to at least five more seminars in September to prepare for his internship and gets invited to some exclusive Physics society. Mark makes sure he’s late to all the proceeding meetings.

—

“Just give me fifteen minutes.”

Finals come with the pressure of more deadlines and the heightening mountain of empty Red Bull cans in the corner of their room.

It’s getting colder now. Close to gift giving season. Last year Donghyuck gave him a first edition copy of “Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!” accompanied by a stack of free hug coupons bookmarked on the inside. It came with him gaglapping on Mark’s dick whenever he claimed one.

Mark gave him the Dove pistachio lotion he likes the smell of and a deluxe set of all of Stephen Hawking’s works. Donghyuck got so excited he’d finished reading through it by the time Mark went to him for his third hug.

“Ten minutes.”

“I told you I can’t, hyung, I still have to—”
Pack slips into Mark’s mouth when he kisses him.

Mark knows he’s cheating but that doesn’t really matter, not when Donghyuck’s already sighing into his lips, too distracted to protest how Mark’s tumbling him down into the mattress.

Not when Donghyuck’s already fumbling to close his laptop and whining about how he can’t ever get anything done.

“Ten minutes.”

Mark gets them both naked in one. Donghyuck’s spit stained and fat lipped pretty from Mark fucking his throat solid in three. He looks good like this, all doe eyed and helpless for Mark. Mark’s sliding inside the cotton candy pink of his ass by six.

“Fuck— you’re so tight, baby.”

Donghyuck responds with a shaky don’t move yet and Mark wants to tell him he really couldn’t unless he wants to jizz inside him four minutes too early. He settles for nuzzling his face against his neck instead.

It’s a lot easier once Donghyuck lifts his legs up. He rests his ankles on Mark’s shoulders like a go signal for Mark to start fucking him and Mark does.

Judging by the vacuum suction around his dick Mark knows it must hurt, even with the amount of lube Mark used to help it still won’t be enough, but Donghyuck’s already gasping breaths through the perfect oval of his mouth—

His fingers sinking deliciously into the meat of Mark’s back and he didn’t survive through four years of physics for nothing. Donghyuck and his iron will can get through a barely prepped afternoon quickie if it’s for Mark hyung.

There’s half a minute on the clock when Donghyuck hauls him by the shoulders and tells him in his nectar sweet voice, hyung, we can extend if you want, acting all dainty like he didn’t have his palms up the headboard so can spear himself on Mark’s cock.

Mark kisses all the admiration he can muster into his mouth. The sun exploding 9 billion years early wouldn’t stop Mark from fucking him now.

—

“Can you last a little longer for me? Please?”

Sometimes Mark gets a little greedy. It comes with being the first for everything, he thinks.

Tucked away in the corner of the schoolyard, sweet, little Donghyuck gifted a nine year old Mark a ring pop for their recess wedding and Mark still keeps it with him. Fumbly and sweaty on his senior prom night Mark fucked him into tears in the back of his dad’s mustang.

No one else has had him since. No one else will ever have him. Mark slows down just enough to hear Donghyuck whimper out an okay for him.

“Just a little more, angel, I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck nearly collapses from the name.

Mark just wants to stay here, really, wants to stay buried in Donghyuck’s straight from the pits of hell heat until he can’t anymore. Donghyuck strains a shy I’m getting hard again with the same voice he uses when he says he feels good and Mark almost comes then and there.

It doesn’t help that Donghyuck’s so willing for Mark. Always puts in his extra effort. The tight clench around Mark’s dick’s so good right now Mark briefly wonders if he should pet him afterwards for the job well done.

“Baby, you with me?”

Donghyuck is hard again. He’s so cute. He’s got tremoring arms hooked around his neck while Mark laughs and tries to jerk his sensitive dick empty in the tiny distance his twitchy body will allow.

Donghyuck gets impatient quickly, asking for him to hurry up through pretty, hiccupy whispers, weakly pawing at his arm when it gets too much.

Donghyuck’s quiet when he comes. His moans die down into hush puppy whimpers until he’s gnawing his dick sucking lips raw trying not to let a sound come out.

Mark has to fuck him real good to pull out his voice but it’s all worth it when Donghyuck squirts against his stomach and lets him hear that glorious broken sob.

“Hyung, I’ll miss you.”

Donghyuck’s filled to brim with Mark’s come but he still manages to be sweet. His face is the ruined kind of blissful Mark likes. Pretty. Iridescent.

“Yeah?”

“So much,” Donghyuck says, quiet. He brings his legs down and wraps them around Mark’s waist to keep him from pulling out. “Will you— will you miss me too?”

Fate, that’s what it is. Mark dreams of being a cosmologist years from now but it will always be Donghyuck who’ll have made him fall in love with the universe.

“Of course, baby. Won’t do anything else but miss you.”

Mark says it into the air like a dirty secret. The light of his life, bless his soul, Donghyuck still blushes like a teenage schoolboy from the promise.

—

(Donghyuck leaves on a Saturday. It’s fairly uneventful. Donghyuck calls him before the plane takes off and reminds him to drink water, lock the door, eat well, the usual house husband stuff.

Mark stops by the craft store on the way home and sticks glow in the dark stars on the ceiling while he’s gone.)

—

“What do you think? Is it weird?”

Donghyuck is beautiful. Not pretty or attractive or any other watered down imitation of the word. Beautiful.

He tugs his waistband further down and Mark sees his life flash before his eyes. With one swooping motion Mark’s buckled onto the foot of the bed, spit thick and tongue tied as Donghyuck rubs the dried ink on his hip bone with the pad of his finger.

Donghyuck sprawls out for him, leaning back with his knobby anime legs manspreading so far apart his dick might as well have a Welcome, Mcrk Lee! sign.

His hair is longer now, natural brown black roots decorating the wispy tips of blond. He runs a demure hand over the tiny tattooed 이민형 on his skin again and Mark’s brain feels like it’s being set on fire.

“What’s this for?”

“I couldn’t think of a good souvenir to get you,” Donghyuck says regretfully, like that does anything but fuck Mark up.

Twenty, thirty years from now, Mark knows it’s going to be Donghyuck who’ll win a Nobel Prize between the two of them. It’s always been him. There’s no question about it.

“Now you’re on the universe you like so much.”

END