Warning! This could be considered DUB-con, so, yeah, I can't get yelled at now. You were warned.

This is also where the M rating really kicks in.

(If Yami or Mark ever find this, just know that I apologize.)

...Sorta...

Yami found himself hurled onto the bed. Mark was strong, surprisingly so. Though, with the body he kept, it shouldn't have been all that shocking. Tight shirts, loose pants, anything worked in his favor with muscles like those rippling beneath the fabric. With little to no effort he had hauled Aaron up and flung him right onto the mattress with a pronounced "Oof!"

As the initial shock faded, Yami cursed up at him, "Jesus Mark-!"

Mark hovered over him now, his gaze preditorial and angry. He was tense and dominating. As Yami put his hands up in defense, Mark simply pushed them down into the mattress, pinning them on either sides of his head. "M... Mark what are you doing?"

His face was stern, so torn and upset that Yami just wanted to hug him, tell him it would be okay. With these thoughts he bit his lip, reminding himself not to act like that. He and mark were supposed to be breaking up. He was the whole reason Mark was so upset. He started to speak again, interrupted when the YouTuber above him growled.

"We're not breaking up!" He repeated once more, shouting louder than Yami had expected him to before suddenly dipping down and biting along Aaron's jaw. Little nips here and there, hard sucks, possessive markings, no part of his neck was left alone. It felt so good, so intense, and it took everything inside of him not to bow down to Mark's touches and just give in.

A small whine barely squeezed through his pursed lips as Mark became more desperate, sliding both of Yami's wrists into a single palm. He scraped against everything, groping, scratching, whatever he could just to get Yami to react. "We're not..." Mark mumbled yet again in between some very determined nibbles on his chest.

Aaron couldn't stifle the dry sob that was drawn from his lungs as Mark cut right to the chase, slipping between his thighs and grinding down hard. There was nothing gentle about it. It was desperate, as teeth seemed to become sharper and clutches became hard enough to bruise. He'd decided to dress casually for the recording today. Which, Yami wanted to say he regretted as he felt nails claw into the fabric of his pajama bottoms. They were custom made for Mark's fans, and he'd had no reservations about buying a pair. Or two. Because it was cutsey as hell to wear matching pink-moustache pajamas sometimes. He was stripped of his pants, overly exposed from the waist down. Mark hadn't even been able to hold onto enough patience to get his shirt off first, it was simply left bunched up just under the neck.

Mark sat up on his knees, and his grip on Aaron released as he flipped his own branded shirt up over his head. He glanced down warningly at Yami as he started to unbuckle his belt, daring him to move an inch from where Mark had him. Yami would try not to admit to how sexy he found that. He should really protest, he should really tell mark to stop now before they went much farther. Cautiously, he pushed himself up on his elbows and started to speak, only to be roughly slammed back down again. His body melted in with the mattress. An involuntary groan slipped out as Mark's alpha glare found his eyes.

"Lie still." Mark ordered, eyes narrowed as he held a palm flat over Aaron's chest, splayed out to keep him there as the second hand pulled his zipper down.

Yami complied, lying still as Mark shoved a hand into the material of his own jeans, palming himself awake without ever breaking eye contact. He looked feral, like he needed to claim Yami, keep him in his place, and it wasn't going to be sweet. A small noise swept past his lips at the thought; Mark holding him down, fucking him into the mattress. But it wouldn't be as bad as all that, because Mark would still be kind, courteous of his partner's wishes, holding him down with a crushing, yet extremely loving embrace, soothing any pain with sweet trails of kisses and encouraging whispers.

The fantasy began to mold back into the current moment as the hand on his chest started to drift. Down, down, slowly at first, swiping over the last few inches with haste as Mark leaned forward. He was hard enough as is, and a blowjob wasn't really necessar- "Jesus, Mark!" he squealed, jumping back a bit as he felt a wet intruder prod at him. It wasn't that they hadn't had sex before, -In fact, Aaron loved sex (especially with Mark)- but it was very unexpected to be getting rimmed.

That protruding tongue pushed further in, forcing him to relax and welcome in whatever Mark wanted to give him. Whatever Mark felt on a whim, he was required to accept. He whined, pleaded, and wasn't afraid to openly beg when Mark slipped a finger into the mix, working in a tag team between the two. The different textures, lengths, movements, one against the other, never leaving Yami's insides empty for a moment. A low, guttural groan came from Mark when Yami let out a silent scream, catching on his breath as he was greeted with an unanticipated brush to the prostate.

He wanted more.

More friction, more movement, more Mark.

As if Mark could hear him thinking, another finger was added to the mix.

From the second hand.

Jesus it was humiliating to hear himself make such incoherent words, nearly crying as the stimulation of three different movements plunged into him. It was too much, and not enough at the same time. The left hand finger would shift forward, and the right would pull back while the tongue just pushed into any crevice it could, filling any empty space. The different things to focus on, left his mind occupied with nothing but the three different movements inside him. He thought he was going to collapse when Mark pulled back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he wiped his mouth on his arm. Then, keeping eye contact with Yami, gave his fingers a little, teasing, lick.

That really shouldn't be as sexy as it was, but all Aaron could manage to do was whine.

He started to struggle then, because he really should. They were supposed to be breaking up, not having mind blowing possessive sex. That wasn't what a broken up couple did. He tried to sit up again, but Mark's sexy bedroom eyes quickly shifted into a deadly glare. He wasn't supposed to move. With a submissive little sound in the back of his throat, he let himself fall back again. If the pleased grin on Mark's face was anything to go by, he'd made the right choice.

Their lips met once more in a desperate clash. Yami dragged his hands up over Marks' neck, pulling him closer as he took position between his legs, snaking a hand along Aaron's upper leg. "Mark..." he groaned, slipping his fingers into the messy, mass of black hair.

It was soft, bold and taunt. Every little hair tangled around Yami's fingers, catching him and forcing him to stay there, like Mark was commanding it. He felt Mark sigh into his neck, probably coming down from whatever sexual despair had caused him to fly into such an act. "Mark..." Yami tried, seeking an opportunity to speak reason, "We- we should..."

"Shhh..." Mark offered, laying a gentle kiss over a rather rough bite he'd left just moments before.

Yami felt the reaction spiral down his body, leaving goose bumps in it's wake. The pleasing sigh traveled through him, a warmth curling into his toes as his cheeks turned pink. This was the Mark he knew, the kind, loving one that liked to be gentle, who apologized when he became possessive and rough. He let a little noise slip as Mark pushed forward, burying himself in Yami, and gently chomping down on the man's earlobe. Yami tried to quiet himself, stuffing the bunches of his shirt into his mouth, but Mark noticed, raising his head and pulling his hips back in a single movement. He tore the fabric from Yami's mouth, and gave a hard thrust, reveling in the surprised gaspy~ sort of moan that Yami produced.

"M-Mark..." He huffed, clinging tightly to his shoulders and scraping his nails down the man's back as Mark gave another quick snap of the hips.

He let the pause in between each thrust saturate, staring at Yami's face in every during and afterthought. He had time to reflect on each motion, to feel everything. Thrust after thrust, slowly becoming faster, more desperate, less strategic, as Mark lost his control, his desires becoming the main drive that kept him moving. Faster and faster until their rhythm was a drunken mess. It was sloppy, uncalculated, but amazing. The movements becoming altogether unpredictable, and allowing Mark to send a surprising jolt through Aaron every time he managed to push into his prostate. But when he got bored of that, and finally decided to indulge a certain angle, Yami arched his back, clawing wildly at Mark's sides as he pushed into that spot, and stayed.

He didn't move, pressing as far in as he could and keeping pressure against it, watching Yami writhe and whine, begging Mark to move, withdraw, do something, anything. He tried to squirm away, but Mark simply responded by letting him. When he got a little too far away, Mark would just follow, slamming back into that spot with a hard snap of his hips, and repeating stillness.

"Mark stop it!" Yami begged, "Move, please!" he wept, trying to roll his hips around, hunting around for the tiniest bit of friction and happily finding he could get it by sort of shifting movement from side to side. Mark remained still, watching silently. The only real changes were coming from what Yami did, sliding the point of pressure back and forth, like the tip of Mark's dick was scratching his prostate.

It was amazing.

Mark seemed to catch on, rolling back into a rhythm with the Brit and picking up a cruel pace without regret. Yami felt it then, the familiar pooling in the pit of his stomach. The heat, the need to burst and the need to do it right now shot through him. "Mark! I- I..."

A little bite under his jaw was the only confirmation Aaron got before he felt himself release, his orgasm shooting up as his back arched. Streaming out over the both of them with loud, lewd whines. He clawed for some sort of grip, anything to keep him steady. His display evidently spurred Mark on, as the pressure against his prostate suddenly became extreme, heat flowing at it in spurts with concentrated force.

He might have actually cried at that point, but you'd never get him to admit to it. His hips hurt. The suspiciously palm-sized red patches of his hips stung, and all of the bites that had a muted pain to them suddenly snapped back with a fierce pinch as Mark let himself relax against Yami.

For a while, they just stayed like that, pretzeled together, a little sore and a little sticky, catching their breath. Neither moved until Mark finally decided to pull himself up. He didn't even attempt to remove himself from Yami though, just grinned lazily.

Yami tried to stare at him firmly, he really did. He tried to let Mark know that this was not a fix all solution, but he doubted the glazed over look in his eyes was all that threatening. If anything, he probably looked pretty fucked out. He grumbled at the thought, catching his boyfriend's-... He wasn't supposed to be referring to him as his boyfriend. Even in his head. "Mark..." he mumbled, "That..."

"Was amazing sex." Mark finished for him.

"Was a dick move."

Mark pouted, frowning at the man in his arms.

"Y-you can't just toss me into a bed and... and expect that to fix all our problems!" Yami pressed, trying to sound assertive even as he was still chasing down his breath. "I- that's not- You can't just-"

"I love you, Aaron."

Yami stilled. His attempts to catch his breath seemed pretty stupid right about now, as he just held it. Waiting for a continuation, something else, a but somewhere in there. The sudden declaration of love had startled him.

Mark's face was so straight, so dead serious it made his chest hurt. He sort of knew it, sure. It hadn't been something they necessarily talked about a lot, but the feeling was there, definitely. It was also tragically mutual.

Yami wanted to scream at him, punch him in the arm or something. He was upset. It wasn't right to let Mark think he could just use the L word and everything would be alright. "Y-you can't just-!"

"I love you so much." he repeated, tightening his grip around Aaron's body, "I don't wanna to break up. Not now. Not ever."

Yami stayed still, staring up at the misshapen patterns in the ceiling as Mark's weight kept him glued to the bed. All he really needed to do was say yes. He could be happy if he just gave in. He sighed and tapped Marks head with his middle figure, possibly sending a subliminal message about how he was making Aaron feel. A Fuck you for being so amazing kind of thing. At least at that particular moment.

"Super hot sex won't help you out of these situations every time you know." he stated.

Mark lifted his eyes, watching Yami with intent as he continued, "I want a date night." he demanded, "Once a week. No cameras or anything. A nice dinner, a movie, a night in, I don't really care." he looked back into the seriously tuned in gaze directed at him, "But it's our night, just the two of us."

He saw the shift of Mark's face as he started to gradually light up. Jesus, he looked like a determined little puppy.

With a huff of laughter, he ruffled Mark's hair, "You're also being put in charge of after sex-clean up. As an apology for pimping me out to the subscribers."

The smile that donned on his boyfriend did not go amiss. It was nice to refer to Mark that way in his head again. His boyfriend. Mark was still his boyfriend. He exhaled a sigh of relief at the feel of Mark nuzzling into his neck as he raked fingers through that unruly bush of hair.

With a smile, he held on just a little tighter, "I love you too, by the way."