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If Donghyuck were an English major, he’d make a metaphor out of a comparison between Mark’s bedroom and Mark himself: the metaphor relying on the fact that both are minorly stress inducing and slightly ridiculous.
However, Donghyuck is not an English major, he’s a Psych major.
So, as he adjusts his backpack on his lap and sits gingerly on the edge of Mark’s unmade bed, with only one toe out of 10 making contact with the actual floor (4 of one foot resting on a strewn t-shirt and the other 5 on what looks to be a flier for a Psych department networking event), he wonders what in Mark’s childhood could have possibly led him to live this way. And there has to be something.
Sitting in what feels like the eye of the tornado, listening to Mark whistle in the shower as Donghyuck waits on pins (Maybe literally? There really is something pointy under Mark’s bed covers that’s digging into Donghyuck’s left ass cheek), he tries to figure out how his own life has led him to this point.
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Mark Lee is outgoing. Oddly so.
Donghyuck has known him since he matched with Mark’s best friend Jaemin on Tinder a few months ago, which lead to a very interesting-to-explain friendship forming (but no sex) and also to Mark walking in on the two of them playing Mario Kart a couple of weeks after Donghyuck and Jaemin’s first meeting. Jaemin introduced Donghyuck as his Friend from Tinder and Mark’s face scrunched in confusion before it smoothed, and he shrugged.
Donghyuck left Jaemin’s apartment (which he later found out was both Jaemin and Mark’s shared apartment) with two new mutuals on Snapchat and a startling lack of having been kissed.
Which didn’t last long.
Because by the end of the month, he and Mark had hit it off and he’d already had phone sex with Mark four times as many times as he’d ever had phone sex previous to Mark (which was zero times because Donghyuck’s dislike of speaking on the phone is not limited to telemarketers, but apparently stops short of Mark Lee), and had Mark’s tongue both in his mouth and on various other parts of his body.
Next, chronologically, (specifically, a couple of weeks ago), Donghyuck had also found out that Mark happened to be a Psych major too.
A Psych major who was helping as a student hand for extra credit.
And of course, a Psych major who was helping as a student hand for extra credit for the next 14 weeks of Donghyuck’s Research Methods class.
Which doesn’t completely explain why Donghyuck is currently sat, fully clothed, on Mark’s mess of a bed spread whilst Mark himself sings, fully naked, in the shower a room away. But don’t worry, said explanation is on its way. It’s quite straight forward actually.
Donghyuck walked into his first Research Methods tutorial a short 10 hours and 30 minutes since the last time he’d seen Mark Lee’s penis on his phone, saw Mark Lee in person setting up their tutor’s PowerPoint slides, and felt like he’d received blunt force trauma.
Mark Lee, however, whom had access to the class list 3 hours prior to this encounter, then approximately 7 hours since he’d last came over Donghyuck’s chin, looked happy, if not amused, to see him.
They have a quick conversation with their eyes, where Mark’s say something dumb like “Fancy seeing you here ;)” and Donghyuck’s threaten to commit performative murder in front of the other oblivious students in the room.
And so ensues 55 minutes of passive-aggression in the form of Donghyuck vindictively snatching all his handouts from Mark as he distributes them around the room and Mark making suggestive eyes at Donghyuck from his seat next to their tutor.
“Alright, guys. Make sure you work on your Lit Reviews, I want us to start presenting by the week after next!” Their tutor says, then motions to Mark, “And don’t be shy to get in touch with Mark for questions or help with your sources, that’s what he’s here for!” and Mark grins at the class as everyone starts to file out, teeth shiny.
Donghyuck huffs.
“Thanks for your help today, Mark! I’m already looking forward to having another set of hands around this semester,” their tutor tells Mark, who smiles sweetly.
“Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything else I can do before next week,” Mark replies, and their tutor nods with a smile and bids both of them a goodbye. Donghyuck smiles through his teeth and hopes it doesn’t look like a sneer.
He waits until the door’s clicked closed before he turns to Mark, arms crossed tight over his body in a defensive stance.
Mark grins from where he’s leaning back on the tutor’s desk.
“You look pretty today,” he says, eyes up and down Donghyuck’s body but lingering on his face, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes extra hard to try and overshadow the way his cheeks pink up.
“Shut up,” Donghyuck huffs shortly, and Mark tilts his head to the side, arms up in mock surrender and face comfortably smug, “Why didn’t you warn me?”
“Shock play was on your list of kinks to try, wasn’t it?” Mark answers, face going even more mirthful.
(He’s referring to lists they’d both wrote a week or so after they met (AS A JOKE, Donghyuck might add), after Mark had stumbled upon a thread of weird kinks on TikTok and gotten interested. Shock play was not on Donghyuck’s list, Mark is just being annoying.)
Donghyuck stares at him for a second, mouth open in almost out-of-body bafflement.
“You’re a psychopath,” tone quiet but incredulous, like he’s made a discovery of some kind.
“I tell you you’re pretty and you call me a psychopath,” Mark sucks his teeth, mouth settling into a pout.
“Degradation was on your list of kinks to try, wasn’t it?” Donghyuck repeats with snark, stalking towards Mark to flick him in the chest but stopping short when Mark stands straight from where he’s been leant back and uses his slight height advantage to look down at Donghyuck.
He extends an arm to grab Donghyuck’s waist with, but Donghyuck steps back out of his reach again and Mark’s bottom lip re-protrudes into another pout. Then his face goes teasing.
“Yeah, but only ‘cause I wanna call you my filthy, little-,”
And the door opens.
Their tutor peers around the door, expression bright once she sees they haven’t left yet.
“Silly me forgot to give you the key to lock up!” She says, holding out a key to Mark as she walks back across the room, “Just pop by my office when you drop off your paperwork this afternoon and return them, no rush!”
Mark laughs good-naturedly, both of them wearing their best ‘responsible student’ expressions until she’s gone again. Donghyuck tamps down the urge to start fidgeting.
Mark waits until the door clicks shut again to say anything else.
Donghyuck looks at him and his face has gone a caricature of disappointment.
“The only problem is, now we can’t fuck anymore…” he trails off, forlorn gaze exaggerated and gross, waiting for Donghyuck to bite.
He does.
“Oh yeah? Why is that?” Donghyuck asks, cocking his hip and tilting his head to look at Mark expectantly.
Mark does a show of dusting imaginary dirt from the shoulders of his sweater before relaxing back into a lean against the desk again and replying.
“’Cause I’m your professor. Isn’t that illegal in the movies?” Mark says, teasingly goading, which makes Donghyuck tut in annoyance. Then Mark’s expression goes pondering, “Actually, you know what, the ‘forbidden fruit’ trope is kinda hot. I’ll let you off,” he says, smiling cheekily.
“You’re a fucking student hand,” Donghyuck says, trying to bring Mark back down to reality. It doesn’t work.
“I’ll give you a student hand. Job. A hand-job,” Mark stutters through, looking far too pleased when Donghyuck laughs despite himself, loud and genuine.
“You’re giving me a headache,” He says, smiling at Mark, who smiles back with glittery eyes, and then moves forward to crowd into Donghyuck’s space again.
“Are you free tonight?” This time Donghyuck lets the hands stay on his waist. Mark gives him a second’s pause, waiting in case Donghyuck doesn’t want to be touched but squeezing possessively when Donghyuck doesn’t move.
He looks up at Mark, who looks a bit like the cat who got the cream.
Smiling softly back at him, Donghyuck rests his forehead in the hollow of Mark collarbone for a moment, breathing in his cologne. He presses a kiss to the fabric of Mark’s sweater and Mark hums low, pleased.
Then: “No,” Donghyuck says, flicking Mark right over the nipple, relishing in his yelp, and leaving before Mark can grab his bag quick enough to follow him.
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Of course, they end up meeting up later anyway though.
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“Can you and Mark have sex tonight?” Jaemin asks a month or so later, without looking up from his phone.
Donghyuck looks up from his own phone instantly, looking at Jaemin across the library bench from him with wide eyes.
“Um, yes? I suppose?” He pauses, and the momentary lull is filled with the sounds of Jaemin’s phone keyboard as he types something, because he never fucking has his ringer off, “Why do you suddenly have a vested interest?”
At this, Jaemin looks up.
“’Cause I’ve got a Tinder date tonight and last time he was home for one of my Tinder dates, they ended up fucking him instead of me,” he looks pointedly at Donghyuck, who blinks hard, and then smiles sheepishly, rubbing at his neck.
“You say that like he’s done that more than once.” Donghyuck says, putting his phone face down.
“No, just you,” Jaemin answers, attention back on his phone and typing resumed at his usual ridiculously fast pace.
Donghyuck senses an opportunity to ask a question he’s been wanting to for weeks now. He tries for a tone conveying nonchalance.
“Oh,” strategic pause, “So he doesn’t sleep with anyone else?” He raises his eyebrows, sitting up super straight and trying to sell the image of selfless curiosity.
Jaemin looks up from his phone again and fixes him with a blank stare, almost scrutinising. Donghyuck shrinks back a little, rounding his posture back out into his usual comfy slouch.
“No,” Jaemin starts, “Unless you haven’t actually been fucking just about every day for the past 3 months and he’s been lying when he says he’s going to your dorm,” he says, like he thinks it’s unlikely.
Donghyuck nods a couple times, fast.
“Uh, no, that sounds about right,” Donghyuck agrees, a little embarrassed again.
Jaemin’s still looking at him, looking a light shade of disgusted. He shudders and goes back to his phone.
“Right, well, it’s just you then,” Jaemin says, and the clacking noises of his keyboard start again.
“Great,” Donghyuck mutters, more to himself than Jaemin.
He doesn’t know whether this information even means anything, but he definitely feels better than he’d projected he’d feel, had Jaemin said Mark was sleeping with other people besides him, so he considers it a win.
He smiles, something soft, and sits there for a second.
And then his phone blares the dreaded Outlook notification noise.
Jaemin breathes a sharp noise of surprise and Donghyuck huffs a laugh as he turns his phone over to read the preview of the email he’s received. The smile falls promptly right off his face.
“Oh, my fucking god,” he shoots up out of his seat, “I was meant to go to contact hours with my Biology professor,” he checks the time on his phone, “25 fucking minutes ago, and he’s just emailed asking if I’m okay.”
He starts scrambling to pack all of his shit up (WHY does he have so much shit) but Jaemin stops him, laughing at the hazardous expression on Donghyuck’s face.
“Just take your laptop and go, Hyuck. I’ll bring your stuff to mine when I leave and you can come get it later, when you pick Mark up to get him out of my Bachelor pad.”
Donghyuck ignores the stupid Bachelor pad comment in favour of squealing what he hopes translates as a thank you and running out of the library.
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Which brings us to where we started: Donghyuck (having gone to his contact hours and apologised profusely for being late, citing a wholly made-up medical emergency as the cause for his tardiness) sitting on the very, very, corner of Mark’s bed, listening to Mark’s ensuite shower run and telling himself positive affirmations so he doesn’t start compulsively cleaning.
At the very least, he sees now why Mark always offers to come to Donghyuck as opposed to making Donghyuck come to him.
He’s pulled out one of his Psych textbooks and started doing his readings for the class he has the next day by the time the shower shuts off and Mark emerges from the bathroom, with only a towel around his trim waist.
Mark’s eyes go from shocked to relieved to just glittery in a split second.
“Hello. You’re in my room,” he says, smiling and looking slightly confused but like he’s definitely willing to excuse whatever means Donghyuck has used to get into his room based on the sole fact that he’s ended up with Donghyuck in his room.
“Yes. And I’m finding myself wishing I wasn’t, just a little bit,” Donghyuck says, and Mark looks away from Donghyuck for the first time since he’d noticed him to cast a gaze around the room, wincing a little bit.
He walks (treks, almost) from the bathroom door over to his dresser near the foot of the bed, where Donghyuck’s sat.
“Yeah, I know. It’s not usually like this, I swear,” he says emphatically, still looking conscious as he looks over his shoulder at Donghyuck while he picks out a pair of underwear, “I’ve just been busy this semester, I guess. Usually, the time I spend with you, I’d use to clean and shit,” Mark explains, pulling his underwear up his legs and dropping his towel once they're on.
Donghyuck looks pointedly at the towel which has just fallen into a heap at Mark’s feet, definitely about to turn the notebook, stack of notecards and Psychopathology textbook underneath it soggy with dampness, until Mark notices Donghyuck's pointed attention and steadfastly picks it back up off the floor with a soft laugh.
Donghyuck says the obvious.
“We should see each other less then. I can’t just let you live in squalor,” And Mark turns rapidly from where he’s started looking for a shirt to look at Donghyuck with big, blown eyes, like he’s been informed of a death in the family or something else urgent.
“No! No,” He exclaims, loud and sudden enough to make Donghyuck startle a little so he bounces on the mattress springs and consequently also whatever the thing is that’s digging into his ass cheek, “I’ll try and clean, I promise. I’d just rather be with you than be cleaning my room, you know?” He tries, his arms easing where they’re raised to gesticulate in the air.
His still-wet biceps catch the light and Donghyuck blinks.
When Donghyuck neither blushes bashfully, nor returns the sentiment, or says anything at all, Mark continues.
“Would you not rather see me than clean your own room?” Mark asks, sounding curious, whilst pulling on the shirt he’s picked out and grabbing the nearest pair of shorts on the floor to pull on.
Donghyuck thinks it’s a moot point.
“I find time in my life to do both,” he replies, and Mark looks at him, then smiles.
“Well, I’d rather see you,” he says, a bit quieter and Donghyuck feels himself warm up a little bit. He doesn’t really know how to take that.
They don’t say anything for a second, Mark starting to towel dry his hair. Then his eyes catch on Donghyuck’s open textbook.
“You’re doing really well in Research Methods, by the way,” Mark says, and Donghyuck knows this. He’d presented his Lit Review on Cross-Cultural Facial Recognition the week before and gotten a 97%. Whilst it makes him feel a little weird that Mark’s in the position to see his grades without Donghyuck telling him, he can’t ignore the spike of pride and pleasure that zips up his spine with Mark’s praise.
“You’re super interested in this teacher roleplay, huh,” he replies, and Mark laughs.
“I told you I thought it was hot,” Mark reminds him, and Donghyuck gags.
“You’re gross,” to which Mark gasps, whipping his towel at Donghyuck who laughs and swats it out the way.
“That’s interesting, because I remember you being the one who was very much against kink shaming,” Mark says pointedly, still laughing, and Donghyuck just gags again but louder this time.
Mark huffs another laugh and walks closer to the edge of the bed where Donghyuck’s sat, Donghyuck automatically opening his knees for Mark to stand between them and Mark doing so, lifting a hand to pet the side of Donghyuck neck with light fingers while the other looks up at him.
The quiet seems to remind Mark of something.
“Not that I’m not glad you’re here but um,” he pauses in both his speech and the movements of his fingers, looking for a way to ask without being offensive, “Why are you here?”
Donghyuck had honestly forgotten.
“Oh! We have to have sex tonight,” he says, and then realises how that sounds a second later, but by then Mark’s already said, “Okay,” with zero hesitation, like he would have responded like that even if Donghyuck didn’t have an actual reason (beyond wanting to) for making the demand.
Donghyuck feels compelled to explain anyway.
“Jaemin wants you out of the house because he has a Tinder date and you’re apparently notorious for stealing them,” he finishes, and Mark makes a noise of understanding, then laughs loudly.
“Why is he worried about that?” He laughs, thumb swiping across Donghyuck’s jaw, making Donghyuck drop his mouth open slightly on instinct, “He knows I’m in-,“ Mark cuts himself off sharply and the movement of his hand stops again. Donghyuck closes his mouth quickly as Mark’s eyes dart up to his, “He knows I already have you.”
Which Donghyuck knows definitely isn’t what he was going to say but he isn’t going to deprive himself of Mark’s hands on his neck by trying to decipher anything right now, so he just hums and turns his head so his cheek presses into Mark’s stomach and he can nuzzle into Mark’s hand.
Mark runs a thumb across Donghyuck’s cheekbone, and Donghyuck reaches his arms out to wrap them around Mark’s back, pulling him close enough to hold on to his own elbows. His eyes flutter shut as he exhales and Mark hums.
After a few sweet seconds, Mark goes tense.
“Oh,” he says, moving to step back out of Donghyuck’s arms, who lets them fall and tilts his head up to watch Mark, who’s started scanning the floor and muttering to himself.
Donghyuck’s eyebrows furrow.
“I wanted to ask you about- let me just see if I can find it- I swear to God, I put it down-,” Mark’s gaze locks onto Donghyuck’s foot and he makes a cute, little ‘a-ha!’ noise, then leans down to the grab the piece of paper Donghyuck’s had no choice but to stand on for the last 30 minutes. He stands back up and holds it in front of Donghyuck’s face.
“Would you wanna come as my date to this networking event with me? It’s for the Psych department, and- I mean, you can read,” Mark stops himself short of announcing the whole contents of the flyer and watches in slight trepidation as Donghyuck’s eyes rove over the paper.
Donghyuck reads the whole thing, then pretends to read it a second time because he can feel Mark watching him and he wants time to think.
The voice inside his head isn’t being too helpful.
Come to our Networking Date? Event!
All Psychological Science DATE Majors Are Welcome!
Date. Wednesday the 9th of August, Faculty of Science Building
Buffet Catering Provided
So, thinking is proving to be quite difficult.
Mark’s apparent impatience forces him to speed up his process.
“So? What do you say? You can say no, I promise I won’t be upset. I’d really like you to come with me though. Only if you want. No pressure. But, I’m just saying that I really want you there. Uh, with me,” he’s started to ramble and Donghyuck tries to stop the stupid, unhelpful voice in his head from admitting that he finds it so cute he can hardly bare it.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” Donghyuck says and he hears the breath woosh out of Mark in a relieved sigh.
“Yeah?” Mark’s eyes are so glittery.
“Yeah,” Donghyuck says, standing up from the bed in front of Mark and stepping forward so they’re close together again. Mark looks so pleased.
Donghyuck runs a hand through his wet hair to push it back from his face and then scratches his fingernails through the short hair at the nape of Mark’s neck. Mark shivers lightly, then grins.
“Only ‘cause I love buffets, though,” he says and Mark laughs, then shakes his head in bemusement.
Donghyuck’s lying.
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After Mark leaves Donghyuck’s dorm for his own apartment the next morning, Donghyuck realises it’s time to face some long-time home truths about himself.
But first, research.
Grabbing his laptop off his desk as he walks back into his room after seeing Mark off (who’d left only after pressing a kiss to Donghyuck’s forehead and a promise to see him the next day for their Networking Event date, which ??????), he settles comfortably onto his rumpled bed sheets and opens it, going straight to an empty Chrome tab and clicking the Google Scholar bookmark.
friends-with-benefits “love”
He clicks enter and waits as it loads.
And the verdict isn’t great.
Almost every article he opens tells him a very similar story.
Through this data, it is shown that there is a negative correlation between any romantic relationship preceded by a friends-with-benefits arrangement and said relationship being healthy, stable or rewarding.
It’s found that, often, these kinds of relationships are entered into under the pretence of no romantic feelings being formed, hence the attractiveness of the ‘no commitment’ circumstances.
Based on participant recounts of their FWB experiences, as gathered through the survey, any romantic feelings that were to arise in either party were most often unrequited and lead to rejection and a termination of the FWB arrangement.
He shuts his laptop and breathes heavily.
Donghyuck loves Mark, and he has for a while.
Somewhere between waking up with him and the little smiley faces Mark would leave on Donghyuck’s quizzes after he’d checked them and his affection and just Mark being Mark, Donghyuck had stepped over the only line they hadn’t explicitly mentioned to each other, between both their stupid list and Mark’s constant consent checks.
He takes a second to contemplate the statistical odds that have lead him to have to deal with this situation. He figures they were about as good as the odds that Mark is one of the minority, one of the hidden statistics in all the studies. Like Donghyuck is.
And the odds are so low it feels stupid to even consider.
But still there’s that little part of Donghyuck’s heart that wonders. That wonders what Mark is thinking when he holds Donghyuck’s face and looks at him with his glittery eyes before he kisses him. When he calls him pretty. When he stays the night, and then stays for breakfast and Donghyuck’s morning TikTok scroll as well.
He sighs again, his eyes a little wet, and wriggles down into his comforter. Which smells like Mark and like being warm. Like being held.
He refuses to cry.
He cries.
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“Have you been crying?” Is the first thing that Mark says to him when Donghyuck opens the door the next afternoon to a smartly-dressed Mark.
He blinks and rubs at his eyes self-consciously, which only makes the concern on Mark’s face double in strength.
He lifts one of his own hands to pull Donghyuck’s balled fist away from his face, muttering something about making it worse, and Donghyuck blinks his bleary, sore eyes open again. He doesn’t meet Mark’s gaze but moves out of the doorway so Mark can follow him into the dorm.
“Why have you been crying?” Mark asks again, trailing after Donghyuck as he walks into the kitchenette, pouring himself an orange juice and giving Mark a Capri-sun, because that’s what he always drinks at Donghyuck’s dorm.
“Just a video on Facebook,” Donghyuck says, “Solider comes back and meets his baby for the first time, baby pandas and shit. That kind of stuff.”
Mark doesn’t look convinced, but he makes a noise of recognition and drops it, stabbing his Capri-sun straw in and taking a sip.
“You look good,” Donghyuck offers, meaning his words far more than he’ll allow it to sound, and Mark makes as appreciative noise around his little orange straw.
“So do you,” he says simply, after he’s swallowed, eyes on Donghyuck’s face.
Donghyuck scoffs. He’s wearing an old t-shirt that’s far too big, with no pants, and Donghyuck knows Mark’s only said that because of how much bare, soft thigh is on show.
He pulls down the shirt compulsively, stretching the hems.
“I always think you look good,” Mark says next, quieter, after watching him fidget, and Donghyuck drinks the rest of his orange juice.
“Thanks. Wait until you see my ass in the pants I’m wearing to this thing,” Donghyuck says, a genuine effort to lift the mood. Mark smiles.
(And Mark can hardly keep his hands off Donghyuck’s ass between him putting the pants on and them leaving his dorm for the event. Donghyuck doesn’t know what he considers a win or not anymore)
But the event is boring.
Mark agrees.
“Your ass is wasted on these people,” he mutters into Donghyuck’s ear from their position right next to the buffet table, one hand holding a paper plate of fancy cheese and salami mini-kebabs and the other hand sneakily safe in Donghyuck’s back pocket.
“You know, I think I’m glad no one’s as taken by my ass as you are, right now,” Donghyuck muses, looking out at the room full of old, balding men, and/or women (whom Donghyuck isn’t interested in either), “If even you can’t make me get behind a teacher roleplay, how do you think this lot is going to fare?”
The laugh that Mark lets out tickles where his breath hits Donghyuck’s neck and makes him shiver.
“For what it counts, I think you’ve got the best ass in this room,” Mark says, taking his hand out of Donghyuck’s pocket to tap his other ass cheek lightly and then hold his plate with both hands, then, “Any room, actually.”
Donghyuck steals one of Mark’s mini-kebabs.
“Cheers. I’m honoured,” he responds with his mouthful, tone blasé.
He sees Mark look at him from the corner of his eye and turns his head towards him too, while he chews.
Mark has an interesting expression on his face, eyes round and starry and he’s looking at Donghyuck a bit like he’s never seen him before. Or that he knows he has, but he’s still just as amazed.
Donghyuck feels the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
A big part of being a Psych major is research. A whole fuck ton of research.
And usually, when you’re running an experiment, you can tell right from the beginning how it’s going to turn out. You get this feeling of exciting anticipation, of uncertainty but also of trust. Trust that your intuition, your gut-feeling, is correct.
Donghyuck feels the feeling settle in the very pit of his stomach, warming him from the inside.
He blinks at Mark, who seems to realise all of a sudden that he’s been staring and blinks a couple times himself, then turns away and shoves a mini-kebab into his mouth.
Donghyuck bites the bullet and starts his experiment.
“I read this article the other day,” he says, and Mark looks at him then looks away, cheeks big and full with cheese and salami, “A couple of articles actually,” he continues. Mark makes an interested noise and puts another mini-kebab in his mouth. “About friends-with-benefits.”
Mark very obviously stops chewing for a very stagnant second and Donghyuck worries absently that he’s stopped breathing all together, but then he starts chewing again, slowly. He darts a glance at Donghyuck, who just looks at him. Just takes advantage of getting to look at him.
“They all said the same thing, really. That they’re doomed. That nothing good ever comes out of them,” Donghyuck pauses, “but there seems to be a bit of a gap in the literature.”
Mark blinks and swallows, waiting.
“No case studies,” Donghyuck says, letting his eyes wonder across the room before they land on Mark again. “So, I’m looking at running my own. On me and you,” he stops and waits to watch Mark’s expression, “if that’s okay.”
“I think your lead researcher is biased,” Mark says, after a couple of seconds with just the general bustle of the crowd around them as background noise.
Donghyuck hums and takes another, the last, mini-kebab from Mark’s plate and pops it in his mouth, then takes the plate from Mark and turns to put it back on the buffet table behind them. Mark drops his hands like he doesn’t know what to do with them anymore.
Donghyuck grabs one to hold, thinking they’ll probably both benefit.
“Well, I certainly want a particular result,” Donghyuck concedes and Mark makes a soft noise.
“And what would that be?” Mark asks, and Donghyuck smiles.
“I can’t tell you that, can I,” he says teasingly, his thumb swiping back and forwards across the back of Mark’s hand, “We can’t both be biased, that would make my results invalid.”
Mark hums in consideration, looking down at their hands with the softest smile Donghyuck’s ever seen him wear.
“Tell me your hypothesis, then.”
Donghyuck nods.
“Well, my first hypothesis is that there’s a highly significant, with stress on the highly, negative correlation between my levels of sexual arousal and any kind of teacher-related situation,” Donghyuck says, and Mark laughs a little loud, like it had been startled out of him. Donghyuck smiles.
“And my second hypothesis is that there’s a highly significant positive correlation between the levels of romantic affection, which I’m operationalising here as specifically feelings of love and adoration, held by partner one,” he pulls the hand of Mark's he's holding up to eye level and points to himself using it, “towards partner two,” he turns Mark’s hand so it’s pointing at Mark, “and, uh, held by partner two,” he re-points at Mark, “towards, um, partner one,” and Mark’s hand is pointing at Donghyuck.
Donghyuck holds Mark’s hand up like that for a second longer and then drops it, loosening his grip so Mark could shake him off if he wanted to. But Mark doesn’t.
Donghyuck is proud of himself for getting through most of that so confidently but he has decided he can’t look at Mark anymore.
“How are you collecting the data?” Mark asks, but he’s still smiling when Donghyuck glances at him, almost timidly.
“Um, in-person interview, I think?” Donghyuck says, and Mark nods.
“Okay, well. I think we can conclude that your hypothesis is correct,” Mark says, and Donghyuck nods.
And then Mark nods again.
“Good,” Donghyuck says firmly, with another nod, then he looks out into the room again, “that’s good. I love it when my hypotheses are correct. Makes writing the discussion so much easier,” he continues, almost mumbling to himself. He feels like he may as well be twiddling his thumbs.
Mark laughs.
Then, unbidden, he says, “God, I fucking love you.”
And Donghyuck turns to him so fast he thinks he’ll end up with a crick in his neck.
Mark’s looking at him like he always does, like looking at Donghyuck is the only thing he enjoys (besides touching Donghyuck, Mark would probably contend).
“Oh, that’s really good, too. I love you too. I- A lot,” Mark laughs again, and then pulls his hand out of Donghyuck’s grasp so he can hold Donghyuck’s face with both of them and kiss him.
✲ﾟ｡.(✿ ♡◡♡)ﾉ☆.｡ ₀:*ﾟ✲ﾟ*:₀｡
And it ends up that, actually, Donghyuck’s first hypothesis was wrong.
“I think I distinctly remember you saying you didn’t find any combination of me and teaching hot at all,” Mark says, wearing a suit and tie, having just put his briefcase down on their dining room table after his first day lecturing for a 4th year Statistics course.
Donghyuck had taken one look at him as soon as Mark had gotten home, Donghyuck having left earlier for his research job across the city than Mark had even got up, and gone dry in the mouth.
“The briefcase is a new variable,” Donghyuck replies, and Mark laughs, loosening his tie and undoing his cuffs, and Donghyuck can’t believe how lucky he is, “If you let me suck you off, you might get to have me call you Sir.”
Mark hums, his face cheekily considering, getting close enough to push Donghyuck’s back against the kitchen island. Donghyuck grabs onto Mark’s tie and yanks on it to close the distance between them as soon as he can reach it.
“Hmm, an offer I can’t refuse. I’ve been waiting for this for 14 years.”