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For as long as they’ve been together, Mark was sure there wasn't a single thing about Donghyuck he didn't know. He knows all of his ticks and quirks, the habits that have been developed and maintained over the years. He has learned to love some of them, hate some of the others, and adapt to the ones that have no real bearing on their day-to-day. He has accepted them and moved on, but, lately, one habit in particular has fallen into the category of fascination.
Donghyuck bites his nails, and he’s fascinated.
It’s such a mundane activity to be dumbstruck by -- but he is. It’s not like he was unaware of it to begin with. He always knew that Donghyuck bit his nails. He can recall many a time Donghyuck handed him the remote, dead batteries lodged in the holding, with an annoyed grumble of, “Nails too short.” Donghyuck and his nail-biting habit isn’t new, not in the slightest, so him being fascinated by the behavior would be senseless.
But not the why .
The intrigue is in the why .
Why does Donghyuck bite his nails?
It’s a question he never cared enough to answer before, because it didn’t need one. Again, the reasoning bore no weight on their lives, so Mark never took the time to examine it. But after feeling what it was like to have Donghyuck dig his sharp, jagged, nails into his back and claw his way down. . . He gets a tad bit breathless remembering the feeling, and he’ll be damned if he denies himself that same sense of satisfaction.
He needs to know why Donghyuck bites his nails, he needs to know what was so different about that week that Donghyuck had the slightest of nails to begin with, and he needs to know how to get Donghyuck to lay off his nails.
What subtle difference in Donghyuck’s behavior did he miss?
He’s been trying to figure out why, and what changed, for days now and nothing sounds right or accurate. He’s eliminated all the common causes like stress, frustration, concentration. None of them directly relate to what he sees Donghyuck do. The longest running theory he had was boredom. It seemed to be the sole factor that consistently occurred whenever he saw Donghyuck with his fingers in his mouth.
It seemed like the right answer.
But then here they were, in their apartment, surrounded by their ever growing number of friends, and Donghyuck once again had the tips of his fingers in his mouth. It was then and there that Mark eliminated boredom. There was no possible way Donghyuck could have been bored; he’s surrounded by some of the most active, vibrant, loud people the world has to offer. But there he is, teeth working their way into the brittle edges of his nails.
He sits and watches.
Donghyuck is leaning against the kitchen counter, staring straight ahead, cloudy eyes fixated on some random point in front of him. Doyoung and Taeyong are bickering like the fully-grown children they are. They seem to have completely forgotten that Donghyuck is there until Taeyong shoves Doyoung away and turns to block him from Donghyuck’s sight.
He appears to frantically ask Donghyuck a question, but Donghyuck doesn’t respond; his fingers stay in his mouth, and that same lost look settles in his eyes even though Taeyong’s right in his face.
It’s then that Mark realizes it’s not boredom, but focus.
Or, more specifically, a lack thereof.
Donghyuck only bites his nails when he zones out.
He doesn't know how he missed it, how he missed that far away floaty look that takes over his face everytime he starts nibbling. It's reminiscent of the same glazed over look he has in bed. Mark feels the rush of giddiness quickly turn to a burning arousal. His cock grows almost as quickly as his curiosity swells. Donghyuck has every ounce of his attention, both mentally and physically, because he needs to know what Donghyuck’s doing for himself? What about the nail biting replaces what Mark gives to him?
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He doesn't act on it immediately. He doesn't even address it — he just sits and watches. Establishes the patterns he knows are there , but wasn't keen on tracking before. He notices the times Donghyuck is most likely to slip into his own serene bubble, how long it takes before he slips out of it on his own, and how much stimulation around him forces him to come to his senses. He notices that Donghyuck's nail-biting habit slows, even abruptly stops, depending on his schedule. If he has class, work, and a fuck ton of assignments due, his nails grow. Sure, he bites off any hangnails and tears into the ones that have chipped and broken because of how weak they are, but those are the times he chooses to bite them. He's not gnawing on then unconsciously like he usually does, but because they’re irritating him. It's not the same gentle chewing from before, but a vicious removal of a minor problem.
The times they fuck during his busy weeks Donghyuck has claws . They're rough and jagged and hurt so fucking good that Mark is sure he's blacked out more than once.
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He takes the time to try out small experiments. See what makes for a decent replacement for Donghyuck's own fingers. He's come to learn that while pens work, later in the day Donghyuck will gently run his thumb across the bottom of his front teeth, so it either hurts or he doesn't like the feeling it leaves behind. He tries different foods, small fruits mainly, but then he doesn't eat actual meals when he should and Mark is trying to solve a problem, not start another one, so fruit’s a no-go. He tries gum, but it must be stimulating the wrong parts, because he still bites his fingernails.
And then he tries candy.
And it works.
Whenever he notices that faraway look, he gently taps Donghyuck's bottom lip with a lollipop. The hard candy softly bounces against his plush bottom lip before the tip of Donghyuck's tongue works it into his mouth.
And Mark finds himself sitting and waiting again. He waits to see if it was too much, too distracting or attention grabbing. But, no — Donghyuck is still sitting in his own head. He can see he's spinning the lollipop, the white stick rotating lackadaisically.
He's learned early on that using either Donghyuck or Haechan pulls him back above the water, but that's more than okay. This is familiar territory in an unfamiliar setting.
"Mama. . . you with me?"
Donghyuck acknowledges him; it’s a short and gentle humming sound, but it may be Mark’s greatest victory yet. Donghyuck can hear him, is focused on him, but he still looks lost. He’s drowning in his own head, and the only thing keeping him tethered is a strawberry flavored lollipop and Mark’s voice. He’s got Donghyuck 100% to himself right now. . . just the way it’s meant to be.
“I want you to hum if the answer is yes , do nothing if it’s a no -- can you do that for me?”
Mark hears the gentle humming again and he can’t help but smile, “Thank you baby, now… do you think you can stop biting your nails for me?”
Donghyuck doesn’t move, just keeps twirling the hard candy in his mouth, and Mark is both exasperated and endeared because even without words, Donghyuck still has a way of deliberately ruining Mark’s plans. Even like this, he’s stubborn enough to outdo a donkey. “Alright, so the nail biting stays, okay. . . umm, does the lollipop make a decent replacement.?”
“ Hmmmm .”
“Good, good, one more question, baby -- do you feel the same as you do in bed with me, Mama?”
Mark watches the red-hot flush hit Donghyuck’s cheeks; it spreads from his face to his neck, and Mark would bet his life that Donghyuck’s ears are red, too. He’s so clearly embarrassed — he squirms and looks for ways to make himself a bit smaller, but he still gives Mark the answer he was looking for: the quiet humming that means Mark was right.
And that’s when he collects the greatest piece of information; zoned-out Donghyuck is only a few gentle touches away from going into subspace.
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Mark doesn’t use the full extent of this new information for some time. He didn’t want Donghyuck to anticipate it, or think about it too much. Thinking about it too much would defeat the purpose and make it impossible to see if it actually worked. But he does keep a disturbing amount of candy on him for Donghyuck to suck on. Most of it he shoves in different corners of Donghyuck’s bag so he has it if he wants it, but sometimes Mark is lucky enough to be there -- to be the one to to give Donghyuck an out, be there to slip the candy into Donghyuck’s mouth himself. And all it ever takes is a soft double tap against his bottom lip. The small pressure has him parting his lips so easily, more than willing to welcome the sticky sweet distraction in.
They’ve gotten a handful of odd looks, but Mark focuses on Donghyuck and Donghyuck only, while Donghyuck focuses on the sensation. Mark learned long ago that things are easier when they focus on just themselves. Worrying too much about outsiders causes nothing but distractions and problems. He bides his time, focused solely on Donghyuck and his new discovery. He holds off on introducing his fantasies; he wants to be sure this is something they can stick to. There’s nothing worse than gearing up for something that’ll never happen, and Mark doesn’t want to be disappointed about something he, A , wasn’t sure was going to work to begin with, and, B , never actually discussed with his partner. For right now, he’s just enjoying all the little things he missed. He enjoys the subtle moments where Donghyuck gives in to him. He likes making sure that if Donghyuck is going to fall into subspace, that he’s always there to catch and coddle him, and especially loves being able to drag him under without Donghyuck fighting back. It’s an odd thing to enjoy, but it’s always been what he’s wanted, and Donghyuck gives it to him, both consciously and unconsciously.
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Mark holds off until he has the excuse to do it.
He waits until they run out of lollipops.
He knew they were running low, he left all the remaining ones with Donghyuck. He knew that Donghyuck was still working his way through them, because his already pink lips would be a deep red, the sweet taste of artificial strawberry coating the inside of his mouth. Plus, the one thing that started this whole ordeal was intact.
Donghyuck for the first time, in years, had nails.
They were smooth at the tip, a bit weak from all the years of abuse, but they weren’t rough or jagged or so short that they posed no threat at all. Mark is sure that Donghyuck’s new set of nails could do some real damage, and he can’t wait to find out.
Mark sets his plan in motion the first day he gets the chance to. They’re home alone, no one to come over and bother them, it’ll just be them and whatever inane activity they do to fill the time. Mark plays it carefully, he tosses out the idea of watching an old movie, only suggesting the ones he knows Donghyuck would never disagree to, nudging for something they’ve seen so many times they could probably go line for line. It’s the exact kind of thing Donghyuck could easily lose himself in.
They lay on the couch, Donghyuck laying on top of him, head resting right on his heart. It makes Mark smile to think of the first time they did this. He was so sure Donghyuck could hear how nervous he was, his overly loud and excited heartbeat embarrassing him more than his words ever could. He’s far from that awkward boy he was when he was 14, but sometimes. . . sometimes it’s nice to remember. And, he’s forever grateful there was something charming enough about him to get someone like Donghyuck to stick around.
He keeps one hand in Donghyuck’s hair, the silver tendrils tickling his knuckles every time he runs his fingers through the man-made mess. His other hand is occupied by Donghyuck’s; their fingers rest, intertwined, on the pillow behind Mark’s head. In this position, Mark can’t really see Donghyuck’s face, so he can’t use his usual queues to see when Donghyuck slips up. He has to wait for the physical ones. He feels Donghyuck slump further into him, the already solid weight somehow heavier, harder to move out from under than it was before. He feels Donghyuck detangle their fingers, he feels the digits fiddle with the cloth of the pillow, hears the slight scratching of nails against the fabric. The sound tickles the pleasure center in his brain and forces a wave of goosebumps over his skin.
Before Donghyuck can bring his own fingers to his mouth, Mark is reaching forward and resting his own fingertips against Donghyuck’s puffy lips. He doesn’t push, he just rests them there and lets Donghyuck decide what he wants. If he pulls away, turns his head so the digits fall away from his mouth, then Mark was wrong. He’ll have to go back to the drawing board, or completely scrap the idea all together.
But Mark is never wrong when it comes to Donghyuck’s needs, and today isn’t going to be a first.
Donghyuck parts his lips, and Mark feels the soft, wet muscle curl and drag the digits into his mouth with ease. Donghyuck suckles gently and Mark doesn’t move; he’s going to wait for Donghyuck to give him another sign. Some way of showing he wants Mark more involved than this. That he wants Mark to give him more than something to distract him from his bad habit.
Donghyuck bites down on Mark’s fingers. It’s not too hard, just hard enough to keep them secure in his mouth. He uses his new hold to turn his head just enough to put eyes on Mark. His chin rests against Mark’s breastbone, the pressure is only slightly painful, not enough to make Donghyuck get off of him. He’s more enthralled by the look on Donghyuck’s face.
He knew that the far away droopy look would be back there. That Donghyuck would look at him searching for guidance, some kind of direction. His eyes are wide and oh-so-trusting, his already pink lips growing redder by the second. They crawl forward only to slip backward with each small suck Donghyuck gives his fingers. Sometimes he huffs, lips parting to pant against the spit wet fingers, and Mark is in so goddamn deep it’s sickening.
He never thought of the soul-crushing feeling of devotion that would well up in him once he got to experience this. It comes on violently, and he’s helpless to it. He knew that the feeling was the same for Donghyuck, that was one of the most important questions Donghyuck could have answered for him, but he didn’t think it would feel the same so quickly. That all consuming need to give Donghyuck anything and everything just because he looked at him.
God , he’s in love.
“Sit up.”
Donghyuck refuses to look away. His eyes dart over the expanse of Mark’s face, looking for the approval Mark will always give to him. It takes some awkward shuffling, but he gets his knees under him, and keeps that same gentle hold on Mark’s fingers as he pulls himself up. His fingers stay firmly in Donghyuck’s mouth throughout the process, and he’s sure if he tried to pull them out he would see the small indents of Donghyuck’s two front teeth embedded in his skin.
Mark pushes the pads of his fingers against Donghyuck’s tongue and bends them slightly; his knuckles get caught on the bottom row of his teeth. The new angle gives him better leverage, it allows him to pull Donghyuck forward. He uses his clear advantage over Donghyuck to talk at him rather than to him. Say what he’s thinking, completely unconcerned with Donghyuck’s response to him.
He doesn’t need him to.
It’s not like Donghyuck can hide how he’s feeling from him.
Definitely not while he’s like this.
“You know. . . I’ve always been more than a little obsessed with you. I took my time learning you because I never wanted someone else to be able to give you what you needed more than me, but only recently, I figured out I dropped the ball.”
Donghyuck frowns at that, puppy eyes shining in concern and Mark can’t help but coo at him. “Don’t worry. It’s not that serious, but I finally figured out why you bite your nails. And maybe that’s the wrong way to say it, because I never thought to answer that question, I just accepted it as something you did. But now-- now I know better.”
Mark slips his fingers under Donghyuck’s hoodie, rough pads running across the soft skin of Donghyuck’s stomach, occasionally pressing in to massage his plush sides.
“I spent days and weeks watching you work yourself into and out of subspace all by yourself. And it made me wonder how I had missed it. How had I spent years overlooking that same, pretty look I’ve grown so used to over the years. The one I spend hours teasing out of you, because I can never get enough of it.”
He goes to pull his fingers out of Donghyuck’s mouth and it’s only then that he protests, biting down, a hurt whine vibrating in Mark’s hand. Mark just hushes him, “Shhh, Mama,” he pulls his hand out from under Donghyuck’s hoodie and wiggles his fingers, “I promise I’ll give them back.” Donghyuck relents and opens his mouth, the spit-slick digits falling from his lips with ease after that. Mark quickly offers up his other hand, and Donghyuck takes them in gratefully.
He uses his newly freed spit soaked fingers to trace up Donghyuck’s side one more time, and he stops when he reaches Donghyuck’s chest. He circles Donghyuck’s nipple, and can’t help but grin when he feels Donghyuck twitch at the contact; he’s sure his finger feels cold, and Donghyuck’s nipples have always been sensitive. “I didn’t care what sent you under, because I know how to do that, and I know how to take care of you when you do, but I couldn’t figure out how you pulled yourself out until I realized ‘duh, you bite your nails.’ You bite, and bite, and bite, until you have nothing left but raw and sore flesh. So. . .” He feels the bud hardening under his ministrations, and the second it fully pebbles, he tweaks it. Donghyuck lurches forward but he doesn’t let go. He squirms and squeals at every tweak, but he never actively tries to get away from Mark. “You bite until it hurts, until it doesn’t feel good -- don’t you?”
It’s wet and messy, practically gurgled out, but it sounds like magic to Mark, “ Yes .”
“I’m sure I know what the difference is, but can you tell me?. . . Markie wants to hear it from you, Mama.”
“Y-you’re the difference. Can’t take care of myself. Don’t want to take care of myself.”
“Mine?
“All yours.”
It’s stupid how giddy that makes him feel.
“Yes, you are.”
Mark never makes these things easy for Donghyuck. He’s not sure what it is. Sometime he thinks he likes humiliating him, but that’s not necessarily his goal when he starts doing these things. But he loves making Donghyuck fight him for what he wants. So, when he feels Donghyuck hardening in his shorts, he makes no real moves to help him or do something about it. The most he does is make Donghyuck more aware of it.
He flexes his fingers and hooks the knuckles over Donghyuck’s bottom row of teeth and tugs. The unusual form of leverage has Donghyuck chasing Mark’s hand to keep them in place and lands him firmly in Mark’s lap, his cute little cock perfectly lined up with Mark’s own. The new position has a startled moan rushing past his lips, the fingers he was so desperate to hold onto falling from his mouth, glistening in saliva. Mark coos at him, a condescending chuckle in his voice, “Look at you, forgot all about keeping that pretty mouth of yours full.” He brings his newly-freed hand down to hold Donghyuck by the hips to stop his squirming. His grip is firm, almost bruising, but it doesn’t stop Donghyuck from trying; Mark can feel the bones shifting, muscle flexing beneath his fingertips, but he’s stuck, completely held in place. “You just wanna feel close, don’t you, Mama? Doesn’t matter how, either.”
“Bet you would do anything I asked you to. Give up on any and everything if it meant you got to stay close.”
“Y-yea, “ gasp , “Anything.”
“You’d do anything I’d ask, sweetheart, and guess what I want you to do. . .” He doesn’t wait for Donghyuck to answer. He’s too dick drunk to try. Mark’s just talking for himself at this point, rambling about what he wants from Donghyuck, what he wants to see, how he wants to make Donghyuck feel. It’s all so addictive. “I want you to cream your shorts.”
He doesn’t give Donghyuck any more direction after that, just loosens his grip and noses along his cheek to his jawline. He licks across his jaw, biting and sucking his way across every inch of skin he can reach. Each mark is darker than the last. They’re blotchy and so clearly territorial he should feel some hesitancy, but all Mark wants to do is leave more.
He’s so unconcerned with how Donghyuck gets himself off that he feels that same gross amusement in his chest when he sees how hard Donghyuck is working to follow instructions. He knows a large chunk of his satisfaction comes from Donghyuck earning his pleasure. There’s never a time where watching Donghyuck working himself into a frenzy doesn’t make his dick hard. He has no intention of helping Donghyuck get there, he just wants to watch Donghyuck take care of himself, wait for him to reach his climax.
Donghyuck’s movements get frantic. He’s searching for contact anywhere he can reach, hands shoving and pushing to force Mark’s shirt up. He manages to worsen the wrinkles in the already wrinkled fabric the more he rucks it up. The shirt’s loose enough that it bunches under Mark’s armpits without forcing Mark to change his position, but he jolts all the same.
It’s his turn to twitch and flinch at the contact. The knowledge that Donghyuck and his newly salvaged nails are running along the tender flesh of his back has his dick drooling in his briefs. He’s painfully aware of it now, skin tingling with each gentle brush Donghyuck lavishes on him.
He can’t help but breathlessly laugh at his own arrogance. He was so sure he would last. That it would just be Donghyuck jizzing himself, that he would get to watch Donghyuck suck him off in cum stained pants, but there’s no way he'll last that long. He’s so fixated on the idea of what it would feel like for Donghyuck to absolutely destroy his back that he doesn’t notice how close Donghyuck is getting.
Donghyuck’s hips have no rhythm, their usual finesse nowhere to be found. During this particular encounter they never really did, but his movements are borderline violent now. Like with each rotation, Donghyuck’s surprised by the feeling. His little cock is swollen and throbbing, and the cloth is in the way, but he’s too desperate to do anything but grind down harder.
That beautiful, desperate whine rings loud and clear in the stillness of the air around them, “Markie, Markie, Markie , Mar--”
And, once again, Mark finds himself falling deeper into the pits of obsession.
Donghyuck’s nails dig into the meat between his shoulders and neck. This time, he doesn’t claw his way down too far, but they dig deeper than they did the first time. They cut into his porcelain skin and scratch just far enough to reach his collar bone. He’s positive he felt his skin tear and curl under Donghyuck’s nails and it should be horrifying, and disgusting, and associated with every other negative painful feeling, but holy shit , it feels so good.
Mark should be ashamed with how good it felt. It should be one of the most embarrassing moments in his sexual life, but he cums fast and hard, jerking Donghyuck further into his body. The sudden movement has Donghyuck’s claws sinking just that much deeper, dick spasming just one more time, another glob of cum coating the inside of his shorts.
Donghyuck rests his weight against Mark and they both slide deeper into the couch. Mark noses along Donghyuck’s cheek and closes in on his lips. It’s the first one they shared since they started and finished, and it’s the gentlest part of the whole ordeal. It’s soft and sweet and comforting, and Donghyuck smiles so hard that Mark may as well be kissing his teeth.
Mark pulls back, a smile dancing in his eyes, “What?”
“We’re gonna have to talk about this new. . . thing.”
Mark laughs, “So you noticed, huh?”
“Yeah. . .”
“You okay with it? Doesn’t freak you out or anything?”
“Eh, only a little.. a little scared I’ll cause permanent damage, but I’m down for whatever you wanna try, hon.”
Mark sighs, and brings Donghyuck’s hands to his mouth and leaves a kiss on his knuckles, “You’re a dream, Mama.”
“Only for you.”
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