#jaemark fanfiction

[kjmsupremacist]

something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 7   |  prev   next   mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), semi-public sex/voyeurism

Rating: Explicit

Length: 7.9k

James schedules his trip with Annie as planned, so from Saturday morning to Sunday evening, Mark will have his hands full looking after Lucy. Jaehyun offers to pick some dinner up for them and then come get him from work on Friday so they can have a nice night in together, which Mark happily accepts.

He’s staunchly repressing the weird feelings from last week, but unfortunately they don’t just go nowhere. The, uh, other feelings he’s had for Jaehyun since the beginning remain, and compound now with everything else channeling into one avenue. He’s been, like, obnoxiously horny for the better part of this week, maybe also because he and Jaehyun only fucked once, that Saturday afternoon, last weekend. Anyway, he’s very glad Jaehyun suggested this, because he doesn’t want to deal with that when he’s supposed to be babysitting his niece. 

So he already has a plan when he gets into Jaehyun’s car that afternoon. And it helps that Jaehyun’s in a plain white tank top and soft shorts that ride up his thighs. How could Mark be expected to resist? 

He waits until they’re a respectable distance away from his office building. He slips his hand over the console to rest innocently on Jaehyun’s exposed thigh. If Jaehyun suspects anything, he doesn’t react. It’s only when Mark’s fingers inch closer and closer to where Jaehyun’s cock is lying soft under the fabric of his shorts that Jaehyun raises an eyebrow at him and asks, calmly, “Can I help you?”

Mark glances at him. “Just missed you, that’s all. Been missing you all week,” he says. “I can stop if you want.”

Jaehyun presses his lips together, clearly trying and failing to hide his amusement. “I didn’t say that.”

Mark wraps his hand around Jaehyun’s cock and squeezes. Jaehyun inhales sharply but doesn’t even blink. “Good.” He begins to stroke, slow so the fabric doesn’t chafe. “Just keep driving, hyung. I’ll take care of you. See if you can make it home.”

“Fuck, Mark,” Jaehyun mutters, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

It takes a few blocks before Mark feels a wet patch of precome leak through the fabric under his fingers. “You’re making such a mess, hyung,” he teases, but Jaehyun just makes a soft noise and bucks his hips up into Mark’s palm. “Do you want it faster?”

“Mm-hm,” Jaehyun hums tightly. Mark smirks to himself, even though he’s getting hard, too, just watching Jaehyun.

“I dunno if you can make it home,” he says, speeding up his hand anyway. “I know you, you don’t come unless you’re with me, so you’re all pent up, right?” Jaehyun's silence is answer enough. “You’re already so hard.” And he is, hard and hot, the heat of it obvious even through his shorts. 

They’re out of the city now, heading up a hill towards Jaehyun’s neighborhood. Mark keeps stroking, even when Jaehyun’s hands start to tremble at the wheel. There’s less danger of them crashing here, which Mark is vaguely anxious about somewhere in the back of his brain. If they need to stop, they can just stop. They’re the only people on the road now that they’re out of the downtown traffic. 

“Close, baby, ‘m close,” Jaehyun warns softly.

“We’re only a couple blocks away,” Mark teases, but he’s now made it his mission to make Jaehyun come in his pants. He leans closer, pressing his lips to Jaehyun’s bare shoulder. Jaehyun shivers. “So pretty, hyung. It’s almost worse if you come now than when we were in traffic downtown. What if one of your neighbors sees?” The streets are empty and quiet, but Mark watches the idea bloom in Jaehyun’s mind and send shivers down his back. 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun grits out, slowing for a stop sign. Mark can tell he kind of wants to just blast right through it, but Jaehyun is responsible, so he stops. And he doesn’t go. His grip on the wheel tightens. He bends over himself, panting, forehead grazing the top of the steering wheel, abdomen working helplessly, and then he comes with a broken cry, spilling hot release in his pants.

Mark strokes him through it, humming encouragement, until he’s empty. Some of the come has leaked through the fabric; Mark brings his hand to his mouth to clean it off.

“Jesus Christ,” Jaehyun mutters, finally easing his foot off the brake. 

“Almost!” Mark says cheerfully.

“You’re literally evil,” Jaehyun replies, voice hoarse. 

“What, you’re saying you didn’t like it?” Mark asks, only a little worried that he really didn’t.

Jaehyun gives him an exasperated look, but there’s a fondness underneath it that he can’t mask. “I’m not saying that,” he grumbles as he pulls into his driveway, and Mark laughs.

Jaehyun leaves Mark to set up their dinner out on the patio while he goes to find a change of clothes. It does amuse Mark endlessly, but it hasn’t done anything to ease his own troubles. Even though it takes a good few minutes for Jaehyun to join him, Mark’s slacks still feel tight by the time he sits down at the table. Hopefully, his behavior will earn him some form of retaliation after they’re done eating.

But Jaehyun returns to the patio calm and poised, and they have a completely respectable dinner. They take a dip in the pool after, but Jaehyun keeps himself politely out of Mark’s reach. Confused now and a little intrigued, Mark lets him play his game, wondering what his end goal is.

“You know,” Jaehyun says, as he pulls himself up out of the water. “I still haven’t seen your place. Still think the doorman is spying for your brother?”

“Oh,” Mark says, a little startled. He supposes now is as good a time as any—it’ll be far less suspicious for Jaehyun to stay for an hour or two than overnight, and normally they wouldn’t want to waste the time. But since Jaehyun has to take Mark back tonight anyway, it’s more worth it. And the summer’s going to be over soon, and Mark can’t bring Jaehyun back when his friends move in. He thinks about his apartment, the places he could fuck Jaehyun. In front of the windows, if they kept the lights off. It would be better than Jaehyun’s car or backyard. Right up against the door, where anyone walking by would hear them. In Mark’s bed, where he came thinking of Jaehyun just the night before. “It’s, um, it’s a little messy,” he warns, which is true.

“We don’t have to,” Jaehyun says. He’s honest; there’s a touch of uncertainty under his tone that Mark takes to mean he’s afraid of making Mark uncomfortable. It’s sweet. “I just… wanted to see. More of you.”

Mark smiles, feeling pleased and a little shy. “Okay,” he agrees, clambering out of the pool and accepting the towel Jaehyun offers him. 

They get dried off. Jaehyun lets the dogs out while Mark sneaks upstairs to steal some comfy clothes for the car ride home, then returns to the kitchen to clean up their dishes and file them neatly into the dishwasher. Their forks go in the second-to-back section of the utensil organizer. Mark knows Jaehyun’s system better than his own.

“Those my sweats?” Jaehyun asks when he joins Mark in the entryway.

“Mm,” Mark confirms without raising his head, intent on lacing his shoes. “Didn’t feel like putting my work pants back on.”

“Just checking,” Jaehyun replies, the smile clear in his voice even though Mark can’t see it. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” Mark follows Jaehyun out the garage door.

It’s early, still, the sun not even dipping low enough to cast a golden shine over the street. It’s thinking about setting, though; the days are getting shorter, and Mark knows that soon the world will be night-dark at this time. But for now, the light is bright and clear and catches in Jaehyun’s hair. Mark watches him as he drives, wondering when he’ll start to grey. He wants to see it. He thinks he’d like it. 

Jaehyun doesn’t touch him. Mark half-expected him to; maybe it was wishful, horny thinking. Jaehyun has a lot more restraint than Mark does, and he’s more creative in his patience. Simple retaliation isn’t really his style. Mark should’ve known that, but he still feels disappointed and, as a result, hopelessly turned on as they accelerate on the expressway.

The sun glitters over the lake, sparkling off buildings. Little boats dot the water; Mark thinks he spots a long, skinny rowing shell on the far side near the shore, trailing a little coach’s launch. Wakes from the bigger pleasure yachts streak white on blue.

“Summer’s almost gone,” he says quietly. 

“School soon,” Jaehyun agrees. “Think you’re ready?”

For school? Certainly. For everything else? Mark looks at Jaehyun out of the corner of his eye. He hasn’t said anything to make Mark think he’ll be done with him once classes start up, but they both know it’ll be different. “Kinda,” Mark says. “It’s my last year, and then… I dunno.”

“You have a while to think about it,” Jaehyun says sympathetically.

Mark doesn’t want to think about it. He wants to fuck Jaehyun ‘til they’re both sore and aching and boneless in their exhaustion and Mark doesn’t have the energy to even imagine tomorrow, or the next hour, let alone next year. If he doesn’t think about it, maybe it won’t come. It’s not an elegant solution, but it is a satisfying one. For now.

“Mm,” he says instead.

“Graduating can be scary.” Jaehyun’s tone is still sweet, placating. “I was scared.”

“I’m not,” Mark says. “I’m not scared of graduating. I just don’t like the not knowing. It’s like when I was waiting for my college decisions. I knew I’d get in somewhere. But I didn’t know where. It didn’t scare me. It just sat under my skin, like, I dunno. An itch I couldn’t reach.”

“Well, don’t rush into the future too fast,” Jaehyun says. He turns onto Mark’s street. “You’ll miss this time before you know it.”

I’m missing it already, Mark thinks. That’s the problem. He’s gearing up to say goodbye, and he almost wishes it was already all over, so he could grieve it in peace, with undivided attention. 

Jaehyun pulls into a guest parking spot. Mark gathers his things. They head into the lobby. No one bats an eye. 

“You said your friend’s parents own the building?” Jaehyun asks.

“Yeah, no way I’d afford it otherwise,” Mark replies. “A studio in the city with a nice view? Forget student loans, I’d be in debt to management well into my next life.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Could get yourself a real sugar daddy to pay it off.”

“Shut up,” Mark mutters, his skin hot.

He unlocks his apartment, letting Jaehyun in and re-locking it behind them. Jaehyun politely ignores the pile of laundry on one chair and the crumbs on the counter, instead strolling over to the windows to admire the view. “Beautiful windows. You can see the Space Needle!”

“Can fuck you up against them later, when it gets dark,” Mark offers, grinning when Jaehyun flashes him a mildly scandalized look. “What?”

“Is that what you think about when you look out them?”

“Lately, yeah,” Mark says with an offensively casual shrug, tossing his slacks onto the laundry chair. “Bed?”

“Not gonna give me a tour?” Jaehyun asks, a sort of glint in his eye that tells Mark his retaliation has finally come.

“You’re standing in the foyer, kitchen, living room, and laundry all at once,” Mark says drily. “Bathroom is behind that door and my bed is in the corner with a curtain over the opening, which is the only reason this isn’t also the bedroom. C’mon, hyung, we both know you didn’t come here just to see how I live.”

“But I do want to see.” Jaehyun flops down on the couch, still looking around. 

“I’m drawing the shades, then,” Mark says, moving to the windows. “Sun’s about to get real annoying, anyway. We can open them back up again when it’s setting.”

Jaehyun doesn’t protest, just watches Mark turn on his strip of neon lights and tug the blackout curtains closed. The room turns deep blue with the sun gone, light enough still to see, but dark enough that Mark has to blink a couple times to get his eyes to adjust. 

He grabs a pillow off the couch, throwing it on the floor between Jaehyun’s feet, and goes to pull his own pants off. 

“No,” Jaehyun says, “leave them on. I don’t want to be the only one who comes in his pants.”

“These are your pants,” Mark points out.

“Mm,” Jaehyun hums, watching him get on his knees anyway. “So I’ll think of you when I wear them.”

“Oh.” Mark’s whole body feels weak suddenly. He runs his hands up Jaehyun’s bare thighs, slipping them under his shorts till he hits his underwear. He kisses his left kneecap. “Okay.”

He finally reaches up and tugs Jaehyun’s pants and underwear down. Jaehyun doesn’t help him, doesn’t touch him, just watches placidly while Mark frees his cock from the fabric and scoots as close as he can, tops of his thighs brushing the bottom of the couch. Mark blinks up at him, maybe for show, maybe to spur him into some kind of action, but Jaehyun is a wall. Before it can turn into a staring contest that Mark will surely lose, he dips his head and wraps his lips around the tip of Jaehyun’s cock.

Jaehyun starts soft, but hardens quickly under Mark’s touch. It’s enough gratification for a little drop of smugness to settle in with Mark’s growing desperation. Because Mark is hard, has been half-hard basically since they first pulled into Jaehyun’s garage. He takes Jaehyun down to the base until he’s choking, and pulls off wetly. Jaehyun’s hips twitch, but his hands remain impassively at his sides. Mark whimpers softly, pressing his tongue to Jaehyun’s slit, licking up the beading precome, hoping to elicit some reaction for all his hard work. Jaehyun lifts his hand to Mark’s hair, but he doesn’t pull. His touch is featherlight, combing through, carefully and slowly working the tangles loose, letting the minutes pass.

But it’s something. Mark bobs his head enthusiastically, humming when Jaehyun gives the tiniest thrust up to meet him. Mark presses his nose to Jaehyun’s pubic bone, breathes in deep. Maybe it’s gross, but he likes the musky, heady scent there, a familiar comfort. He can barely feel the press of Jaehyun’s cock on the back of his throat, or maybe he can feel it but it just doesn’t matter. He swallows around it once, twice, breathes out. A shudder passes through Jaehyun’s body; Mark readjusts his grip on his thighs as pulls off slowly, then pushes back down, keeping his cheeks hollowed. He does it again, and again, keeping his pace even, not fast, but not slow, either. Jaehyun trembles, huffing out tiny moans that make Mark’s head swim. He’s throbbing in his pants, but he can’t get a hand down to reach himself, and he has a feeling Jaehyun doesn’t want him to, anyway. 

“Mark,” Jaehyun whispers, and goes still. Come hits the roof of Mark’s mouth, and Mark realizes, as he lets out a long, trembling breath, that there are tears stinging in his eyes.

Mark swallows all of it down, only pulling off once Jaehyun starts to go soft again in his mouth. He pushes Jaehyun’s tank up to kiss his stomach, tucks him back into his pants, then gets onto unsteady feet. 

“Think the sun’s past the horizon now?” he asks hoarsely, keeping his tone casual.

“One way to find out,” Jaehyun replies, equally casual, pushing himself off the couch.

Mark goes to the kitchen to fill up two glasses of water for them, leaving Jaehyun to pull the shades back. The sun is, in fact, below the horizon now, and it’s painted the whole city a brilliant orange. It washes over the vinyl flooring, turning gray to gold. Jaehyun pads over from the far wall, quiet.

Mark passes one of the waters to him when he’s close enough, taking a sip of the other one. Jaehyun sidles up next to him, facing away from the windows, leaning back against the counter. The dying light shines golden around his silhouette like a full-body halo. He reaches out with his free hand, gets a grip of Mark’s hip and pulls him close. 

Mark grins and kisses him. He hears the clink of the water glass against the counter, and then feels Jaehyun’s other hand on his jaw, his cheek. The hand on his hip shifts center, and lower. Jaehyun cups his cock and gives it a soft squeeze. Mark stutters a moan into his mouth, quiet and whispery. The counter is high enough that no one could see exactly where Jaehyun’s hand is, but one look at their position and the salacious pinch of Mark’s brow would say enough. Then again, no one’s really looking. The next building is far enough away that it doesn’t matter. 

“No underwear?” Jaehyun asks.

“Accidentally took them off with my slacks,” Mark explains impatiently. “Too lazy to put them back on.” He kisses Jaehyun again, really kisses him, pushes his tongue in so he can run it over Jaehyun’s teeth, the points of his canines. 

Jaehyun lets him lick into his mouth, breathing out soft moans of encouragement, but he makes Mark chase his hand instead of just giving him what he wants. 

“Hyung,” Mark mumbles against Jaehyun’s lips, rolling his hips forward into his palm. “More.”

Jaehyun, infuriatingly, keeps his touch light. “Could’ve made me crash today,” he says.

“You would’ve stopped me, before,” Mark replies through gritted teeth. It feels so, so good, to finally have Jaehyun’s hands on him, but it’s not enough. He thinks he might cry, rocking his hips forward even though Jaehyun just follows the movement. He knocks his forehead against Jaehyun’s shoulder and lets Jaehyun pet soothing circles into his spine.

“It’s too bad we can’t actually do something like that, like really in public,” Jaehyun muses. “Too risky. But it’s fun to think about, isn’t it?”

Mark can only groan. He imagines them out at dinner, dressed up so fancy, Mark’s hands in Jaehyun’s lap as they eat. Jaehyun frozen with his fork and knife still in his white-knuckled hands as he comes in his expensive dress pants. The unmistakable stain when he stands. 

Jaehyun takes a firmer grip of Mark through his (Jaehyun’s) sweats. Mark keens softly, letting his mouth drop open and his teeth scrape harmlessly against Jaehyun’s skin, right next to the fabric of his tank top. Mark realizes suddenly that he’s still holding his water, as a drop sloshes over the rim and hits his thumb, but he can’t bring his arm down, can’t move at all, can only rut hopelessly into Jaehyun’s hand. 

“What’re you thinking about, baby boy?” Jaehyun’s voice is pitched low, the rumble echoing in Mark’s ears. 

“Would make you come at dinner with my hands,” Mark pants out. He raises his head, hooks his chin over Jaehyun’s shoulder and stares out the window. He can just make out people moving around in the building across the street. Someone is cooking. A few floors down, people jog on treadmills. And in Mark’s kitchen, in the apartment gifted to him by his friend’s parents, Mark humps an older man’s palm like a desperate teenager.

“And then?” Jaehyun prompts, and Mark remembers dizzily that he was in the middle of a fantasy. 

“When we got up to leave, everyone could see the mess you made,” Mark continues. “And they would be able to see how hard I was, too. No hiding it. Oh, fuck.” Jaehyun wraps his hand around Mark, and even through the fabric Mark can feel the press of his fingertips, can feel Jaehyun’s thumb against his slit. “And then I’d fuck you on the hood of your car, or maybe up against the side, in the parking lot.” He can see it, Jaehyun’s fingers sliding against the roof as Mark fucks into him, the car rocking gently with the force of it. Jaehyun weak-kneed and teary; they wouldn’t have time for a lot of prep. Mark pounding into him as people walked by, uncaring. Jaehyun, dripping with Mark’s come, covered in his own, driving them home. Or maybe they were out to lunch, and Jaehyun drives Mark back to school for his afternoon classes. He imagines waving bye through the passenger window, walking into class with his limbs still orgasm-loose.

“You wanna fuck me where everyone can see?” Jaehyun presses. 

“Yeah,” Mark slurs. “Want people to see what I can do. How I make you feel. How I’d only do it for you.”

“I want it, too,” Jaehyun murmurs. “Gonna come?”

“Uh-huh.” He slumps against Jaehyun, his free hand clutching at the back of Jaehyun’s neck to help hold himself up, shaking. He presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the top of Jaehyun’s shoulder as his hips thrust up into Jaehyun’s fist, the fabric of his sweats scratching and pulling with every movement. He locks onto a guy pacing in front of his window across the way, looking over the city with his phone to his ear. He doesn’t see Mark, but Mark pretends he does, pretends he sees him draped over Jaehyun, eyes hazy, hips working behind the counter, Jaehyun’s arm moving in tandem.

He comes so hard he can barely hear himself moaning, his fingers digging into Jaehyun’s neck. “Hyung, fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaehyun.” It spills out without Mark meaning for it to. His come is hot and sticky, trapped against his cock with nowhere to go. He feels himself sliding around against the fabric, which sends another crazy jolt of pleasure through his whole body. “Oh, god,” he says weakly, hips twitching erratically. Jaehyun releases him and he bends over the sink, finally setting his water glass down with an unsteady hand. He blows out a hot breath; it fogs on the stainless steel. 

Jaehyun’s voice bleeds amusement when he asks, “Still wanna fuck me against the windows after the sun goes down?”

“Yes,” Mark spits out immediately. “Fuck, hyung, I didn’t even really think I was an exhibitionist before I met you.”

Jaehyun does laugh now, running a hand down Mark’s back. “Sometimes it depends on the partner,” he says. “Maybe you’ve never had anyone you wanted to show off before me.”

His tone is playful, but it rings true. Mark wants to claim Jaehyun in front of everyone, wants him to be his and his only, forever, wants the whole world to know. “Yeah, maybe,” he huffs quietly, standing up. “I’m gonna rinse off before these stick to me.”

When he comes out of the bathroom, shirtless, with a towel wrapped around his waist, Jaehyun is back on the couch watching the sunset. Mark goes to turn off the lights, plunging them into near-darkness, then joins him wordlessly, curling into his side. 

“Your internship ends next week, right?” Jaehyun says. “And school isn’t for another week after that?” Mark nods. “Y’know how we were talking about the peninsula? What if we spent the week out there?”

Mark sits up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, like it’s no big deal. “I mean, I might’ve already booked the cabin. Sunday to Friday. It’s okay if you can’t make it, but—”

Mark kisses him, pins him against the couch and kisses him, smiling big against his lips. “Yes,” he says when he pulls away. “Let’s go.”

“You sure? You don’t have plans with your friends?” Jaehyun asks. 

“Nah, they’re not coming in until the weekend anyway. I can just move next weekend,” Mark says. “And it’ll be nice. To spend the time with you, before I get super busy.”

“If you,” Jaehyun ventures slowly. “You know. If you’ll be too busy with school, that’s okay. I know neither of us really planned for this, so…”

Mark shakes his head. “Shut up,” he says. “I still wanna see you.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun still sounds uncertain, his eyes unreadable in the dying light. “Just, with all your classmates coming back and stuff, I thought maybe… I mean, if there’s someone…”

“There’s no one I want more than you,” Mark says. He’s almost angry at him. Does Jaehyun think Mark could give him up that easily? Would it be easy for Jaehyun? He tries to make light of it, swallowing the weird tension before he can ruin such a nice night. “Besides, Princess and Bobby would miss me.”

Jaehyun’s lips quirk up at the corners. “Alright,” he says. “Just making sure.”

“You’re stupid,” Mark says plainly, leaning in to kiss him again. Jaehyun’s laughter rumbles in his chest; he catches one of Mark’s wrists in his hand and holds it between their bodies, trapping Mark at his side. Mark kisses him fervently, half climbing into his lap. The towel loosens and pools over his thighs, but it doesn’t matter because the sun has sunk so far below the horizon it’s practically gone, leaving the sky with only a faint orange tinge. Mark likes this, too—being naked when Jaehyun is still fully clothed. He rubs himself against Jaehyun’s stomach, the head of his cock bumping their hands. 

“You’re insatiable,” Jaehyun accuses softly. There’s no real accusation to it.

“You’re the one who’s gonna be coming for the third time this evening in just a little bit here,” Mark points out.

“Yeah, and whose idea is that?” Jaehyun releases his wrist in favor of grabbing his hip. He pinches him lightly; it doesn’t hurt, but Mark yelps all the same. Even in the darkness, Mark can see every careful line of Jaehyun’s smile. His heart hammers in his chest. 

“You’re pretty, hyung,” he says breathlessly, and Jaehyun rolls his eyes, tugging Mark into him, arms wrapped around his body. 

“You gotta stop calling me that. It isn’t true.” Mark can picture the pink of the blush that he’s sure has risen to his cheeks. It’s not doing much for Jaehyun’s argument.

“I’d never lie to you,” he says, earning himself a bone-crushing squeeze. He presses a noisy, tickle-y kiss to Jaehyun’s neck, then twists himself free so he can look out the windows.

The orange has faded from the sky. The stars are coming out and the moon hangs over the sliver of lake that Mark can see, its reflection rippling in the wake of the party boats. 

“Think it’s dark enough?” Jaehyun asks.

“Let’s close the curtains a little bit,” Mark says. “Less light from the city. Then all people will see are two silhouettes. They’ll look away pretty quick, and even if they don’t, it’s not like they’ll see our faces.”

They pick the corner the half-faces the water, closing the curtains on the windows that face the other building and the rest of the street. Mark ducks into his room for lube. Jaehyun steps out of his shorts, tossing them over to the couch, and Mark returns to tug his shirt up over his head for him. Jaehyun splays a hand over Mark’s stomach, and it strikes Mark then the comfort he has here. He’s not extremely shy about his body, but he never feels comfortable just walking around topless, or pulling his shirt off when it’s hot out like so many of his friends seem perfectly content to do. It’s not that he’s insecure about how he looks, it’s just a general sort of embarrassment at nudity. But not with Jaehyun. He wants Jaehyun to look, likes it when he touches him, skin against skin. It’s not even really in a sexual way—well, not entirely, anyway.

Jaehyun leans in and kisses him. Mark throws his arms over Jaehyun’s shoulders and kisses back, pressing their bodies together. Jaehyun’s just a little bit taller than him, so his cock slides against Mark’s stomach while Mark’s brushes Jaehyun’s inner thigh. They’re both half-hard again, but neither of them move to do anything about it. They just kiss, body to body, soft skin against soft skin. Mark wants to touch Jaehyun everywhere. He wants to push his fingers against Jaehyun’s soft palate and run his thumbs over his teeth, he wants to open a seam in his belly and crawl inside—

And it sounds insane, but all of this is insane. He’s fucking his niece’s fucking music teacher, who’s just about double his age, who—oh, Christ, who Mark actually really cares about, like maybe way too much. Who most certainly doesn’t feel the same way back. 

Mark bites Jaehyun’s lip, too hard. Maybe because he’s angry. Maybe because his heart hurts. Maybe because he wants Jaehyun to be his and this is the only way he can say it. With blood in his mouth. 

Jaehyun, perfect Jaehyun, doesn’t protest or push away. Jaehyun moans. 

It makes Mark weak; he moans back, sweet and soft and low, swiping his tongue over the swollen lump he’s just made. “Sorry,” he mutters. 

Jaehyun just kisses him again. “It’s okay,” he says. “You like it when I cry.” Another kiss. “How do you want me?”

“Facing the window,” Mark says, trying not to say something else, something stupider. 

Jaehyun presses himself to the glass, head turned so he can still see what Mark is doing. Mark pumps some lube onto his palm and then tosses the bottle aside, taking a small dollop of it onto his index finger and spreading it down to the last knuckle. Jaehyun sticks his ass out a little to make things easier, and Mark groans softly. 

“You look so slutty,” he comments.

Jaehyun tries to look put out, Mark thinks, but it’s not really working because his eyes are dark and unfocused. As much as this was Mark’s idea, he can tell Jaehyun is enjoying it a lot. He grins to himself, pressing the finger against Jaehyun’s perineum, then pushing inside.

Jaehyun’s eyes flutter closed; he clenches around Mark, tight and hot. “Jesus,” Mark mumbles, working his finger in to the base and giving Jaehyun a second to adjust before slowly pulling it back out again. “Wish you could see yourself. But that’s part of it, I guess. Everyone can see you but you."

Jaehyun gasps quietly, but he rocks his hips back to meet Mark’s fingers. It softens something in Mark. For you, Jaehyun is saying. He wouldn’t want this with anybody else. Mark wouldn’t, either, he thinks. 

He opens Jaehyun up pretty quick after that, too eager to get to the fucking to really drag it out. Besides, he’s tortured Jaehyun enough for one day with his antics in the car. Soon, he’s fumbling for the lube again to slick up his cock while Jaehyun catches his breath, fogging the window next to his mouth.

Mark pushes into him, gripping his hips with lube-wet hands, but it doesn’t matter. Jaehyun makes fists against the glass, his cock dripping between his legs. Mark slips in deeper and leans forward to rest his forehead on Jaehyun’s spine. “Hyung,” he manages. “God, still so tight. Is it ‘cause you’re nervous?”

“Maybe a little,” Jaehyun says. “Mostly turned on, though.”

“Good,” Mark says. He bottoms out, waits a beat, draws his hips back. Jaehyun is hot and wet around him, soft walls hugging his cock and making pleasure pool in Mark’s belly. He thrusts in, jostling Jaehyun against the window. In the streets below, bar-goers mill about, waiting at stoplights, watching the moon over the water. Any of them could look up and see two bodies pressed to the glass, body heat making it steam up a little and blocking the view. Mark’s next thrust is so hard it’s almost mean. He can hear Jaehyun’s teeth clack against each other, and does it again. 

“Baby,” Jaehyun says, his breath coming in hiccups. Mark hums, kissing his vertebrae. He moves a hand around Jaehyun’s hips to jerk him off, and Jaehyun convulses beneath him. He’s trying and failing to find some purchase on the smooth face of the window. His scrabbling makes something dark and jealous in Mark’s heart bare its teeth.

“So good, hyung,” he says against his skin. “Anyone who looks should thank you. You’re like a fuckin’ wet dream, you know that?” Jaehyun makes a noise of protest, but it turns into a moan when Mark angles his hips just right. “Fuck, yeah, right there?” He hits it again, and Jaehyun is nodding—Mark can’t see it, but he can feel it, the fervent bobbing of his head, the silent yesyesyes. 

The world sort of stills around him. Or maybe Mark’s mind just slows down. He listens to their bodies moving against each other, and the rapid beating of Jaehyun’s heart. He shifts his other hand up to the glass, crowding Jaehyun impossibly closer until he’s completely trapped, just enough room between his body and the window for Mark’s fist, still stroking him in time with his thrusts. Mark pants openmouthed, the hot breath fanning back onto his cheeks after it hits Jaehyun’s skin. Pleasure sparks down his legs, making his knees shake, but he doesn’t stop. Jaehyun is making noises that make part of Mark want to snap him in half and another part to wrap Jaehyun up in, like, fucking bubble wrap or something, Mark doesn’t know, all he knows is everything feels good, even the way his knuckles bump against the glass, even the way his thighs are getting sore, and–

“Mark, Mark, gonna come,” Jaehyun warns, and Mark makes some kind of low, insane noise in his chest and speeds up. Jaehyun squeaks out something that sounds like oh, fuck, and then he’s shooting come over Mark’s fingers and painting the glass with it. Mark lifts his head, craning his neck so he can see around Jaehyun’s body, can see his come dripping down toward the floor in a porn-perfect splatter. 

It overwhelms him, and he can’t even say anything before he’s coming, too, still thrusting unevenly into Jaehyun’s body. His come mixes with the lube, squelching a little, but even that is hot to Mark. He can’t help the way his hips give little phantom twitches even after he tries to stop, still chasing the high as they both come down.

They stay like that, slumped against the window, Jaehyun’s release the crowning piece of evidence in their fucked up little crime scene. Mark knows it’s almost worse if people see them now, but he still doesn’t care. He’s bone-tired and deeply satisfied with himself. He doesn’t even move when, after he pulls out, he hears his own release dripping out of Jaehyun and hitting his floors. 

It’s Jaehyun who finally peels them off the windows. Jaehyun who cleans up the come dripping down the glass, the spatters on the floor. Jaehyun who gets them in the shower, just enough to get the gross stuff off. Jaehyun who guides Mark to bed and tucks him in. He sits on the edge of the mattress, stroking Mark’s hair while Mark battles sleep. 

“I’ll see you next Thursday at pickup,” Mark mumbles. “I have drinks with coworkers Friday and I need to finish moving Saturday, but I should be done before dinner. We’re gonna head out Sunday morning?”

“Mm-hm,” Jaehyun agrees. “Need any help moving?”

“James ‘s got me,” Mark replies. “It’s okay.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun leans over and kisses his forehead. “Okay if I just lock the bottom lock on my way out?”

“Yeah,” Mark agrees.

“Sleep well, baby.” Jaehyun’s voice moves farther away as he stands. “I already set your alarm.”

Thank you, Mark wants to say. But he’s so tired. He hears Jaehyun give a soft sigh of amusement. Another kiss to his forehead, to send him to sleep. Mark doesn’t even hear Jaehyun close the door.

///

James comes to pick Mark up bright and early, but he has breakfast so Mark doesn’t complain, just hops in the car, shoving his bag in the back.

“Where are you taking Annie?” he asks, taking a bite of his ham and egg croissant. 

“Over to Orcas Island,” James says. “Booked a nice hotel room, fancy dinner, you know. We’re trying to catch the ten o’clock ferry, so we’ll basically have to leave as soon as I drop you off.”

“Have fun,” Mark says around a mouthful of food. 

Lucy is in high spirits when they arrive, giggling with glee over getting to have a sleepover with her Mark-samchon. She clings to Mark’s leg as her parents finish packing up the car. Mark watches his brother and his sister-in-law, the easy way they have with each other. How Annie can hold her hand out and James knows to pass her his bag without a word. The way they don’t bump into each other, not once, in the chaos of packing up their car because they know each other so well, know exactly where the other is at all times and what they’ll do next. Mark tries to imagine him and Jaehyun like this, years down the road, maybe with a child of their own. The image is fuzzy at best. 

Because as much as he and Jaehyun play pretend, what they have isn’t like this. No amount of blankets tucked securely around Mark’s shoulders and kisses pressed to his forehead can change that. Mark is just a passing whim of Jaehyun’s. Jaehyun will, in time, find someone his age, someone more settled, more mature. The warmth of last night seeps away as his brother’s life throws it into sharp contrast. At best, Mark will be a short, beautiful spring in the long years of Jaehyun’s life. Summer will burn through them and autumn will come. The leaves will change, and Jaehyun will have no more use for him. So there’s no point in Mark trying to pursue anything more, because Jaehyun would say no, and even if he didn’t right away, Mark knows eventually he wouldn’t be enough for Jaehyun anymore.

And the worst part is, Mark knows Jaehyun would be right to say no. Because even if they could make it work somehow… then what? Mark probably won’t stay in Seattle, and he certainly can’t settle down right away. Jaehyun won’t just wait for him. He shouldn’t. Mark wouldn’t let him, the same way Jaehyun wouldn’t let Mark shape his life around their relationship. 

He gets that terrible tugging feeling again, like he’s straining against the present. He knows it’s going to hurt when he and Jaehyun have to go their separate ways, and Mark almost wishes they could rush through goodbye so he could stop waiting for it, not knowing how bad it will be or how it will feel. He’ll be miserable, he knows, but at least he’ll know where he stands. It’s not like he’s not hurting now. He might as well get it all over with.

James’ voice pulls him out of it. “We’re gonna head out, okay? Just call if you need anything.”

“Sure,” Mark agrees, still half in his own head. “Have fun!”

“Bye!” Lucy calls, waving madly from the doorway until the car pulls out onto the street and disappears. 

“Well,” Mark says after they close the door, trying to be present with her instead of drowning in his own head. “What d’you wanna do?”

Lucy pulls him into an elaborate game of make believe, where Mark is an evil king and Lucy and her army of stuffed animals work together to take over his kingdom (the couch in the living room). It ends when Mark allows himself to be pulled to the floor and buried under piles of plush ponies and teddy bears, begging for mercy. 

Lucy sits on Mark’s stomach, grinning triumphantly.

“Oof, Luce,” Mark groans, not really meaning it. “You’re gonna be too big to sit on me pretty soon.”

“Not yet though,” she says pertly. “But I wanna grow.”

“Yeah?” Mark can’t hide his amusement.

“Yeah.” Lucy nods seriously, spreading her hand in front of Mark’s face. “Jaehyun-seonsaengnim says I’ll be big enough to play a real piano when I grow more. I’m too small now. But soon.”

“I bet Jaehyun-seonsaengnim is right,” Mark says, regarding her little hand. “You’re outgrowing that little keyboard. It’ll be a while before you can reach the pedals, though.”

“I’ll make Appa press them,” she says, unconcerned. She tips her head. “You and Jaehyun-seonsaengnim are good friends, right?”

Mark starts a little. “Yeah, we’re good friends,” he agrees. “I like him. He’s funny, right?”

Lucy nods. “He thinks you’re funny, too,” she says. “He always smiles when you’re there.”

Mark files that away for Jaehyun later. They better be careful, because it sounds like Lucy is picking up on some things. The last thing he needs is for James to hear from his baby girl that Mark and Jaehyun make eyes at each other every time Mark goes to pick her up. 

Lucy has moved on, though; she stands with purpose, releasing him. “I’m hungry,” she says. “Noodles for dinner?”

The night passes uneventfully. Mark makes Lucy bunny-shaped mac and cheese and gives up on trying to explain that Annie’s is also a brand and doesn’t have anything to do with her mom. They share a popsicle and watch cartoons until Lucy’s eyes are drooping, and Mark carts her off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and give her a quick bath before bed. She’s out like a light as soon as her head hits the pillow, and Mark goes back down to clean up the kitchen and then watch some TV until he gets sleepy too.

Around eleven, as Mark’s just thinking about heading to bed, he gets a text from Jaehyun. He thinks about ignoring it, too sore and raw about the things that are breaking ground inside him, but he knows he can’t punish Jaehyun for things that aren’t his fault. 

>>> How are things?

Good. Lucy didn’t even complain about bedtime. <<<

I think she’s onto us <<<

>>> uh oh. What do you mean?

she’s noticed us joking around at pickup <<<

she asked if we were good friends <<<

>>> Good friends 👀

Is that the first emoji you’ve ever used in your life <<<

>>> I’m not prehistoric, Mark

>>> so what did you say

yes <<<

hopefully not too nervously <<<

>>> I’m sure it’s fine haha

>>> I’ll keep my distance next week just in case

Well, not too far I hope <<<

Mark pockets his phone and stands, stretching before he goes to put himself to bed. He tries to forget all the tough stuff for now, and lulls himself to sleep remembering the way he fucked Jaehyun against his windows. As far as lullabies go, it’s pretty shoddy, but Mark allows himself the bandaid.

The next morning, Lucy comes to wake him up so he can make them breakfast. They race to the kitchen and Mark asks if she’s ever had chocolate chip pancakes. She shakes her head, shiny hair bouncing excitedly, and Mark considers for a moment the damage he may be inflicting on James and Annie before deciding he doesn’t care because it’ll make Lucy love him forever, and goes to get the flour. 

Lucy settles at the breakfast bar while Mark mixes the batter so she can watch (and steal a few chocolate chips out of the bag, which Mark pretends not to see). “So is it true you don’t have a girlfriend?” she asks him as he beats the eggs. “Or boyfriend,” she amends, not-so-sneakily popping another chocolate chip in her mouth.

Mark gives a sort of sigh-laugh, reaching for the vanilla. “I’m too busy, silly! I have school and stuff soon, and then I’m gonna have to look for a job.”

“But,” Lucy protests. “Appa already married Eomma when he was your age.”

“Well,” Mark says patiently. He gets out the big cast-iron griddle and lays it across two burners, then turns the burners on. “Your appa finished school early. Careful of this griddle, ‘kay Luce? It’s gonna get super hot and I don’t want you to burn your hands. It’ll hurt for days and days.” Lucy nods seriously. “Anyway, my brother was lucky enough to meet his person—that’s your eomma—when he was young. Not all of us are that lucky.”

“So… you haven’t found your person yet?” Lucy asks.

Mark thinks of Jaehyun. He shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says, spreading the batter for the first pancakes. “But that’s okay. I think I want to get my career started first, and then see what happens.” He plucks up the bag of chocolate chips before Lucy’s hand can inch any closer. “And don’t think I don’t see you, you little thief. You’d eat the rest of this bag if I let you and then you wouldn’t even get to try the pancakes!”

“No I wouldn’t!” Lucy protests, giggling, but she at least has the decency to look contrite. “I hope I’m like you,” she continues, and Mark blinks. “I don’t wanna get married early. I wanna be a musician like Jaehyun-seonsaengnim and go around the world!”

“I hope you do,” Mark says, smiling at her with genuine amusement. 

When James and Annie get home that evening, they rescue Mark from, like, his twentieth round of Go, Fish. James sits with Mark in the living room, helping him clean up all the toys while Annie allows herself to be accosted by her daughter.

“Did she behave?” James asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Mark says. “You got a good kid, man. I may have introduced her to chocolate chip pancakes, though, so… sorry about that.”

Distantly, from the kitchen, they can hear Lucy asking Annie if they can have chocolate chip pancakes in the morning. James laughs to himself. “Well, that means I get to eat them, too, so I’m not complaining. Ready to head home?”

“Yeah.” Mark gathers his shit and says bye to Annie and Lucy before stepping out onto the porch. The sun is going down, and the heat is receding. Summer really is almost over, he thinks. It comes with a flash of unexpected anxiety.

He hops in the car and James joins him, pulling out onto the street. “Annie was thrilled,” he says before Mark can even ask. “So, thanks again.”

Mark nods. “I mean, I got to hang out with Lucy, so it’s no big deal, but I’m glad it went well,” he replies. With a start, he realizes he still needs to tell James about his peninsula plans. “Oh, I meant to tell you. I’m gonna spend next week out on the peninsula, since my internship is over.”

“By yourself?” James asks.

Mark makes a mental note to text Johnny. “Yeah, I asked my friends, but no one was free. And I know I won’t have time once school starts, so.”

“Just be safe, okay? Mom’d wring my fuckin’ neck if something happened to you,” James says. Mark nods, thinking about all the things Mom would wring both of their fuckin’ necks about if she knew.

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “Sorry for not mentioning it sooner, I just kept forgetting. Annie’ll have to pick Lucy up from music lessons.”

“Actually, I think her teacher is gonna be out of town that week, too,” James says, and Mark pretends like this information surprises him. “So no music lessons. Good timing, really.”

“Good,” Mark says, turning to face the window so James can’t try to read his expression. “That’s good.”

[jjangnmi]

' #30mx30c | dia 1 [musica do seu grupo masculino favorito] "megaverse", stray kids. &lt;3 capa mark lee + jung jaehyun [jaemark / markhyun] | nct | spirit

[kjmsupremacist]

something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he's off limits, and not just because Mark's niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark's 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark's like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 1   |   next   mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), alcohol mentions, poor decision making perhaps

Rating: Teen And Up (for this chapter)

Length: 3.1k

mandatory disclaimer: I'm not trying to romanticize or condone real-life age gap relationships because of the inherent power imbalance, blah blah, I'm writing this for fun and if you don't think you'll have fun go ahead and leave now, etc.

Mark drums his fingers against the cold metal pole as the bus lurches to a stop. He checks the time on his phone—5:25 p.m. He should just make it, unless this prehistoric bus takes any longer to open its doors.

After what he swears is a full minute of ominous creaking, Mark steps out into the muggy air. It’s still only the beginning of June, but already this summer seems like it’s going to be absolutely scorching. Mark supposes he’ll be doing a lot of swimming.

He crosses the street and heads up the sidewalk to the cluster of buildings beyond a small, uneven parking lot, squinting to make out the sign. Little Hands Musical Academy. It’s smaller than he imagined, somehow, but kind of quaint.

A receptionist greets him when he enters the lobby. Though the outside of the building is a bit understated, the inside is clean and bright. Mark says hello back to the receptionist, looking around as he steps up to the counter.

“Uh, I’m here for Lucy Lee?” he says tentatively. “I’m Mark Lee, I’m her uncle. My brother said he put me on the, um, the list?”

The receptionist nods with a smile, typing something in and then looks up. “Could I just see some ID please?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, one sec,” Mark stutters, fumbling for his wallet. He hands the receptionist his passport, feeling a little silly as she leafs through to the right page.

It’s all a little silly, really—that Mark is even picking Lucy up in the first place. He can’t drive, which is mostly fine since James’ house isn’t that far, only like ten minutes on the bus and a few blocks of walking, but Mark thinks if James and Annie are that worried about safety, having an irresponsible, driver’s licenseless twenty-year-old come fetch their only child is hardly helpful.

Still, they asked, and they also bought Mark a new AC unit after his old one finally kicked the bucket the very first day it was over eighty degrees, so here he is. James doesn’t get off work until 5:30, which is the pickup time, and though Annie works from home and can come drop Lucy off in the afternoon, she said she’d rather get a head start on dinner in the evening. And Mark’s internship lets him go at 5. So maybe it is kinda helpful, as long as Mark doesn’t lose his three-and-a-half year old niece on public transport.

“You’re all set,” the receptionist says, handing Mark’s passport back to him. “It’s the classroom at the end of the hall. A lot of parents are already here, you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” Mark says, putting his passport away and heading out of the lobby towards the back of the building.

There are many parents gathered outside the large window that looks into the classroom from the hall. Mark sidles up next to the group and spots Lucy’s pigtails instantly. She’s plunking away on a tiny keyboard. As Mark watches, the teacher—at least, Mark assumes he’s the teacher; he’s the only adult in the room—strolls by and pauses to say something to her. Mark can’t hear anything, but when the teacher walks away, Lucy is wearing a big grin.

After a couple more minutes, the teacher opens the door and gestures for the parents to file in. Mark gets his first good look at the teacher’s face and swallows. He’s hot. He’s also definitely a little older—forget Mark, he’s visibly older than James. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s fucking pretty, with handsome dimples appearing every time his expression leans towards a smile. 

Mark is so busy staring that he ends up last in line, but it turns out to be a good thing because the teacher stops him at the door.

“Sorry, would you mind if I just checked your ID really quick?” His eyes are a warm brown, Mark’s brain notes unhelpfully. “I’m sure you already got cleared by the front desk, but—I just like to make sure, you know?”

“Oh, totally, no problem,” Mark says, once again struggling to extract his wallet. 

“Come with me, I have the list over here,” the teacher says, waving Mark into the classroom.

“Mark-samchon!” Lucy zeroes in on him right away and totters over, pigtails flouncing with each step. “I played the piano today.”

“I saw,” Mark says, grinning at her. “Hang on, your teacher just needs to check that I really am your uncle and not a bad guy, and your Appa really did say it was okay for me to pick you up.”

“But he really is my uncle, Jaehyun-seonsaengnim,” Lucy says to her teacher.

Jaehyun, apparently, has produced his list. He gives Lucy an amused smile. “I think I’ll be the judge of that,” he replies. “Can’t let my students walk out with just anybody. Thank you,” he adds to Mark, accepting the offered passport. After a second, he hands it back. “All set,” he says. “Sorry again about the trouble, it’s nothing personal.”

“No worries!” Mark says swiftly, filing his passport away and pocketing his wallet again. “It’s cool that you’re looking out for them.”

Jaehyun gives him a somewhat wry smile, nodding. “I try,” he replies. “Well, see you in a couple days, Lucy! We’re doing percussion next time, you don’t wanna miss it.”

“I like the shaky ones,” Lucy tells Mark very seriously.

Mark’s pretty sure she means stuff like maracas. “Yeah, those are pretty neat, huh?” He holds out his hand to her and she takes it. “Thanks—ah, Jaehyun-seonsaengnim, right?” Mark’s never sure about honorifics in a mixed setting like this—they’re mostly speaking in English, and they are in America, but the area they’re in is really Korean, so he just goes for the way Lucy called him and hopes Jaehyun will correct him.

He’s right. Jaehyun’s smile turns warmer. “Just Jaehyun is fine,” he says. “It was nice to meet you, Mark.”

Mark’s stomach flops. “You too,” he replies, then hurries out of the classroom before he does something stupid like trying to flirt in front of his niece. 

Mark lets Lucy chatter about class as he walks them down to the bus stop. He wants to be paying closer attention to what she’s saying, but his mind keeps drifting back to her handsome music teacher. Jaehyun. It’s not like he needed a reason to do his brother a favor—and besides, Lucy’s reason enough—but it sure as hell doesn’t hurt. 

They get home in one piece. James stops working to play with Lucy and Annie tells Mark to stay for dinner. Mark’ll take a good, free meal with his family over a shitty expensive one alone in his apartment any day, so he stays and helps with the dishes, too. They send him off with leftovers, and Mark can hear Lucy’s laughter all the way down the street as he skips backwards, waving at her until the front porch of his brother’s house disappears behind a line of trees. 

He sighs, slowing to a walk as he turns to face forward, dropping his hand to his side. In some ways, he wishes he was like his brother. Found his person early, finished school, got a good job, settled right down and started having kids. A life that’s small and perfect, full of little excitements and little joys.

But Mark’s not like that. He readjusts his grip on the leftovers, leaving thoughts of his family behind him as he focuses his attention on tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that. He’ll have the time for excitement later. He can settle down when he’s satisfied. For now, his life has to remain boring—busy, and boring. 

And from the looks of it, that’s how his summer’s shaping up to be. Busy and boring. And honestly? Mark doesn’t mind that one bit. 

///

“Damn,” Johnny says as he pulls into a parking spot. “Didn’t know you had a thing for DILFs.”

“Wha—dude, no, he’s not a—a DILF,” Mark splutters, already regretting telling Johnny anything. “He doesn’t have kids.”

“How do you know?” Johnny arches an eyebrow at him as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“It came up once,” Mark says. “I didn’t ask! He was saying it’s nice his job is to hang out with kids, basically, because kids are fun and he doesn’t have any of his own.”

“Hasn’t it only been a couple weeks since you started going to pick Lucy up?” Johnny throws this over his shoulder before getting out of his car. Mark hurries to get out, too, so he can argue.

“Lucy has lessons twice a week,” Mark says. “So I’ve seen him three times, which is more than enough times to clock if someone’s hot or not. Woulda been four, except my fucking boss made me stay late on Thursday.”

“I’m telling you, man, unpaid internships are straight up bullshit,” Johnny says.

“If I could’ve gotten a paid one, d’you think I wouldn’t’ve gone for it?” Mark retorts, grabbing his guitar from the back and slinging the strap of the case over his shoulder. “If this shit doesn’t get me a good job after graduation, I’m suing the entire career counseling office.”

“I got a good job after graduation and I didn’t have a single internship,” Johnny points out. “You’ll be fine. Unless you let this hot children’s music teacher distract you.”

Mark shoves him once they’re through the mall entrance. “I just like to look at him, that’s all. Though, I mean—I wouldn’t say no, is all I’m saying.”

“Yeah. He’s how old?” Johnny asks.

“Shut up,” Mark grumbles. 

Though they’re technically here to get Mark’s guitar looked at—one of the strings fucking snapped, he doesn’t know how—they meander through the mall on the way to the music store. Johnny ends up buying a couple of pieces of clothing and nearly convinces Mark to get a matching hat with him before Mark remembers, woefully, that he isn’t getting paid and truly doesn’t have the money to spare.

They finally get to the music store and Mark hands his guitar over, then follows Johnny away from the counter while they wait for it to be fixed up, poking through their record collection.

“Mark?” The voice is familiar, and Mark whips his head up to see Jaehyun of all people standing a few feet inside the door. He’s not in his usual casual clothes; instead, he’s dressed in smart business casual, a patterned button-down tucked into cropped pants. 

Mark swallows, trying to put a single sentence together instead of staring at his waist. “Jaehyun,” he manages. “What are you doing here?” It comes out way ruder than he means it, but luckily Jaehyun just smiles.

“I own this store,” he says, tipping his head to one side and looking around at all the instruments hanging on the walls. “I founded this brand, actually.”

“Really?” Mark would’ve never pinned Jaehyun as a businessman of any kind, but here’s the proof—one of the employees at the store has come up to Jaehyun with his hand extended. 

Jaehyun greets the employee, accepting the handshake. “I’ll come back in a minute,” he says, then turns back to Mark. “I wish teaching music class for kids paid the bills, but, ah…” He gestures vaguely. “Speaking of which, I missed you in the pickup line on Thursday. Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah!” Mark silences the part of his brain that immediately starts trying to make a pun about pickup lines. He can feel a flush rising up his neck, both pleased and embarrassed that Jaehyun noticed he wasn’t there. “My internship just kept me late is all.”

“Hope they don’t keep you too often,” Jaehyun says, and Mark absolutely does not know how to take that. “Lucy looked kinda put out her mom was there to get her instead of you.”

“Oh,” Mark laughs, wondering why he feels kind of disappointed. “Well, that’s probably because I’ve started bringing her snacks.”

Jaehyun nods, grinning. “That’s always a good way to win them over,” he agrees. “Well, it was a welcome surprise to run into you in my store! I probably shouldn’t keep them waiting, but I’ll see you next week—I hope.”

“Y-yeah, see you!” Mark stammers, giving an awkward half wave, watching Jaehyun disappear into the back of the store.

“That was painful,” Johnny says flatly. “You don’t just think he’s hot, you like him.”

“Shut up,” Mark hisses. 

“You wanna fuck your niece’s music teacher,” Johnny continues blithely. “You really wanna fuck him.”

Luckily, the employee that was servicing Mark’s guitar appears at this moment and spares Mark from coming up with an answer. Because, he thinks somewhat miserably as he heads up to the counter to pay, the thing is Johnny isn’t wrong. But, fuck, Jaehyun’s literally fucking beautiful, and good with kids, and also apparently a rich business owner. What else could Mark ask for?

“I’m just saying, dude,” Johnny continues as they head back out to the parking lot. “If you wanna fuck that old man so bad—”

“Oh my god, he’s not old, he’s like maybe in his early forties at most,” Mark interjects, grimacing in embarrassment.

“If you wanna fuck that middle-aged man so bad,” Johnny plows on, undeterred, “at least get him to fuckin’ pay you or something. You’re young and hot, don’t waste it. No homo.”

Mark resists the urge to bash Johnny over the head with his newly-repaired guitar. “Shut the fuck up.”

/// 

Mark can argue with Johnny all he wants, but it won’t change the fact that he’s right. He wants to fuck that old man. It’s kind of all he thinks about, outside of basic things like work and what he’s going to have for dinner—and even then, the thought of Jaehyun is still percolating in the background, waiting for whatever has grabbed his more immediate attention to be completed so it can muscle its way back to the fore.

He sees him again the next week when he picks Lucy up and it’s all Mark can do not to drag his gaze over Jaehyun’s body as he waits for the parents in front of him to grab their kids. When he goes home, he scours Instagram until he finds him—a public account, a small mercy considering the fact that he only has three posts, but still. Mark pores over the pictures, thumb hovering over the Follow button before closing out of the app altogether and opening his text chain with Johnny.

Dude I’m spiraling &lt;;<<

>>> The dilf?

yeah &lt;;<<

It’s bad. fuck me man &lt;;<<

>>> uh, pass

>>> I mean maybe you’re just horny

>>> download tinder or something

And get stuck in the talking phase all summer? &lt;;<<

Or find someone to hookup with and it’s like their first time &lt;;<<

I’m not teaching someone how to kiss again I know I’m just some guy but I deserve better than that &lt;;<<

>>> ok fair

>>> if it’s experience you want……… go on one of those sugar baby websites

>>> remember what I said about him paying you

>>> your internship’s getting enough of ur free labor as it is

Mark sighs, dropping his phone on his mattress and flopping back. Maybe Johnny’s right. Maybe he just needs a good fuck and he’ll be cured. And there has to be some kind of market for gay sugar daddies who are bottoms, right? Besides, God knows he could use the money.

okay im gonna do it &lt;;<<

>>> fuck the dilf???

NO try the sugar baby thing &lt;;<<

>>> if it works out, gimme a cut of your profits

>>> since it was my idea and all

what are you, my pimp? &lt;;<<

I’ll take you out to a meal, how’s that &lt;;<<

>>> deal

So Mark does exactly that. He does a little research, chooses an app, and downloads it. He sets up his profile, just some basic information about who he is and what he’s looking for. The app suggests he not upload any pictures, for privacy, and Mark’s secretly glad the pressure’s off on that one. He’s not sure if it would help or hurt, but at least this way, the playing field is level.

He could scroll profiles if he wanted to, he supposes, but he has a feeling he’s going to start eliminating people because they don’t seem like Jaehyun, and that’s not going to get him anywhere. He’ll wait and see who’s interested in him, and go from there. 

He sets his phone down instead and heads into his kitchen to see about dinner. But he’s only just pulled a couple things out of the fridge when his phone gives an unfamiliar buzz. With a sigh, he puts the eggs back and goes to his phone to see a new message on the app.

>>> Hey Minhyung!

>>> Are you new to sugaring? Know what you’re looking for?

Mark scans over his profile. CEO of his own business, dog person, plays guitar. Not looking for something too serious. Income between 600k and 800k. 

Hi Yuno! Yeah, this is my first time sugaring haha but I did my research &lt;;<<

I’m hoping for something more casual. I work during the week but my weekends are usually pretty free &lt;<< 

Not expecting a lot, just hoping to have a little extra spending money &lt;;<<

Yuno is typing before Mark even sends the final message.

>>> sounds like we might be a good fit :)

>>> do you want to talk it over in person? We could go get coffee, get to know each other, see if we’re compatible

Sure! I’m free this weekend &lt;;<<

>>> Perfect. How’s Saturday at 3?

Mark glances at his calendar just to double-check, but as expected, it’s empty. When he looks back at his phone, he sees that this Yuno guy has sent a coffee shop in the city, not too far from Mark’s apartment. 

>>> there’s this booth in the back corner I like, let’s plan to meet there

>>> if it’s occupied, we can meet at the tall tables by the windows instead

Sounds good! &lt;;<<

See you on Saturday! &lt;;<<

Yuno likes his message but doesn’t reply, so Mark pockets his phone and goes back to cleaning. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, pulse jumping in his neck. It’s not like he’s in danger or anything. They’re meeting in public, and Mark likes to believe he’ll be able to tell if the guy is a total creep or not. Worst case, he wastes five dollars on a coffee he’s not even going to enjoy and has to keep searching. Besides, he’s not going to be young forever. He might as well give it a shot while he still can.

[kjmsupremacist]

something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

​​Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 3   | prev   next   mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), alcohol mentions, poor decision making perhaps

Rating: Explicit

Length: 8.2k

Mark wakes in an unfamiliar bed with a beautiful man beside him. He panics for two seconds, and then remembers yesterday and sinks back down into the mattress, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. Right. Sugar daddy date. Jaehyun. 

They ended up ordering pizza and watching Netflix while they ate last night and then turned in before the sky had even gone completely dark. But they’d both been exhausted, and now Mark is glad. He feels well-rested for the first time in… well. A really long time, he thinks.

He rolls his head to the side, looking at Jaehyun. He’s on his back, one arm flung out to the side, hand dangling off the edge of the bed, the other arm wrapped loosely around his own torso. Even in a worn cotton t-shirt, mouth slightly ajar and snoring softly, he’s still the prettiest person Mark has ever seen.

Anxiety rears in Mark’s stomach, and he goes patting around for his phone. He finds it on the nightstand, and he unplugs it and checks his notifications. Nothing, just like there should be. Who’s gonna find out, anyway? And why would it matter? It’s not like anyone at work has any idea about (or any interest in) Mark’s personal life. And his family doesn’t track his location. And Johnny can’t say anything to Mark now that he’s scored, so what’s to worry about?

It’s fine, he tells himself firmly, putting his phone down and rolling onto his side. I’m an adult, anyway. I can fuck who I want.

He doesn’t quite know how long he spends gazing at Jaehyun, thinking about the night before. He hopes Jaehyun’s up for round two (or three, or four) today, hopes he won’t have to face his real life until later in the afternoon. He likes the little bubble they’re in, just him and Jaehyun and Jaehyun’s dogs and his pretty house and everything that Mark wants to try.

The sun finds a crack in the curtains and a beam of light dances across the bed sheets. Jaehyun draws in a deep breath and Mark snaps his eyes shut so he’s not caught staring.

There’s some rustling and a dip in the mattress, and then Mark feels Jaehyun’s hand on his cheek.

“I know you’re awake,” he says softly. 

“How?” Mark mumbles, firmly refusing to open his eyes.

“Your eyes keep trying to open,” Jaehyun replies.

Mark relents, blinking his eyes back open and giving Jaehyun a sheepish grin. “I’ve been awake for a little while.” God, he’s pretty, he thinks to himself. He stretches his arms up, sighing, using it as an excuse to drape them over Jaehyun’s shoulders on the way back down. “G’morning.”

“Morning,” Jaehyun replies quietly. “Doing okay?”

Mark resists the urge to roll his eyes. “If I was gonna freak out, it would’ve happened last night,” he says. “Yeah, I’m good. I don’t regret it.” He leans closer. “Don’t regret it at all.” Jaehyun’s leaning in, too; their noses bump but neither of them move to kiss. “Do you?”

Jaehyun gives a slight shake of his head. “As long as you don’t, no,” he says. 

“Yeah?” Mark whispers. “Good.” He finally presses his lips to Jaehyun’s, soft and chaste at first, then more insistent when Jaehyun kisses him back.

“Mm, Mark,” Jaehyun hums between kisses. 

Mark pulls himself closer, keeping his movements lax and slow. He wants to climb on top of Jaehyun and pin him down and kiss him until they’re breathless and messy with spit, but he’s too tired to actually do it. It does register as a little funny that the desire is still there, though—Mark kind of thought maybe he’d be a little less insane about Jaehyun once he’d fucked him, but he’s not finding that to be true. Actually, it’s the exact opposite. He pushes his tongue past Jaehyun’s teeth, moaning mostly for show, sneaking his left arm around his waist instead, splaying his fingers over his spine. He can feel the heat of Jaehyun’s body now where it’s touching his, his soft thighs against Mark’s, his—

“Hyung,” Mark laughs softly when they break apart, rolling his hips up to meet Jaehyun’s just so there’s no way he can deny it. “You’re hard.”

“So’re you,” Jaehyun accuses, which is completely fair. “Guess we should do something about that.”

“Guess we should.” Mark kisses him again, working to disentangle their limbs somewhat. He kisses Jaehyun’s chin, his neck, his collarbone as he scoots himself down. “Lemme suck you off?” he asks, though he’s pretty sure he knows Jaehyun will say yes. “You won’t have to do anything.” His fingers are already on the waistband of Jaehyun’s underwear, but Jaehyun is nodding anyway. Mark pushes Jaehyun’s shirt up and kisses his stomach before tugging his underwear down just far enough for his cock to spring free. 

He wasn’t just saying shit yesterday—Mark’s good at sucking cock and he knows it. He dips his head, swirling his tongue around Jaehyun’s tip and smiling to himself when Jaehyun gasps quietly. He anchors himself to Jaehyun with a hand on his hip, dropping his mouth open wider to take him deeper, reaching his other hand down to palm himself over his underwear. The heat quickly grows stifling, with Mark pressed so close to Jaehyun and halfway under the blankets, but he doesn’t care. 

Jaehyun tangles his fingers in Mark’s hair; Mark thinks he’s using both hands. Mark hollows his cheeks, humming in the back of his throat when Jaehyun chokes out a quiet moan. He swipes his tongue slowly, running it side to side over the veins of Jaehyun’s cock. A sort of light static fills his head. He can smell Jaehyun, the earthy dampness of his skin; can taste him, the precome spilling out onto his tongue. Jaehyun, Jaehyun, Jaehyun. Everything else Mark knows is crowded out until only Jaehyun remains. He rolls his hips up into his palm, his heart pounding in his ears as he bobs his head. The obscene wet noises are only somewhat muffled by the duvet crumpled around Jaehyun’s hips.

It feels quiet to Mark’s ears. The house is still, the air sort of soft and sleepy, like the world is only just waking up, slow and lazy. There’s a sort of serenity to it, even if what they’re doing is messy and lewd. Mark breathes in, out, pressing his heel down against his own cock and feels wetness seeping through the fabric. The rush of his breath lulls him; he moans softly around Jaehyun. Who cares if it’s messy and lewd? Who cares about any of it, except that Mark is happy, warm with pleasure, and that Jaehyun is too? 

“Oh, fuck,” Jaehyun breathes, grip on Mark’s hair tightening and making his scalp burn. “Feels so good, baby.” Mark only responds by moving faster, taking Jaehyun a little deeper each time. He relaxes around the intrusion, taking a few deep, steadying breaths through his nose as he goes. His gag reflex rears its head for a few frightening moments, and then he feels the tip of Jaehyun’s cock bump against the back of his throat.

Mark lets his eyes roll back in his head, dutifully hollowing his cheeks once more and holding Jaehyun there. He exhales sharp, short puffs through his nose; Jaehyun’s pubes are tickling him a little, but not enough that he thinks he’s in danger of sneezing. 

“Holy shit, Mark,” Jaehyun mumbles when Mark still doesn’t move. “You sure you’re not gonna pass out?” Mark pauses briefly to give a minuscule shake of his head. “F-fuck, okay,” Jaehyun continues shakily. “I-I’m getting close, I think, can—can you swallow?” Mark nods as enthusiastically as he can, accidentally picking up the pace a little in the process. “Okay, if you need to pull off just tap my thigh or something, okay?”

Mark hums his agreement, but he doubts he’ll need it. He knows what he’s doing. He keeps the same rhythm, timing his breaths as best he can, rocking his hips up into his palm mindlessly, so focused on Jaehyun he’s barely realized how close he is himself. It shouldn’t be surprising, really—Jaehyun’s making sweet noises above him, whining softly every time Mark takes him as far down as he’ll go. Mark knows his throat is going to be sore, but it’s so, so worth it, especially now, as Jaehyun’s moans get louder and louder, as he releases Mark’s hair to scrabble weakly at the sheets. 

“Fuck, oh fuck, Mark, so good, I—“ He cuts himself off with a soft cry, and Mark feels hot, sticky release hit the roof of his mouth. Mark swallows just like he said he would, slowing to a stop and rolling his tongue over Jaehyun’s tip instead to stop his come from shooting straight down his throat. 

It’s the combination of things, of the rough friction of his underwear and the weight of Jaehyun’s cock in his mouth and Jaehyun’s breathless moans and Jaehyun’s come on his tongue and Jaehyun’s scent in his head—Mark can’t help it. He gives a muffled groan, shuddering as he comes in his underwear. It’s fucking gross and kind of embarrassing, but Mark can’t find room for shame inside him when it feels so good.

“Baby,” Jaehyun gasps softly, coaxing his softening cock out of Mark’s mouth. “Did you just come, too?”

Mark rolls onto his back, panting, pushing the blankets down so he can breathe, hand still over his cock so he doesn’t stain Jaehyun’s sheets. “Sorry,” he manages. “I was already so close, and you sounded so good, I couldn’t—stop myself.”

Jaehyun scoots closer, propping himself up on one elbow so Mark can see him. He’s wearing a look of amused disbelief. “You don’t have to apologize to me,” he mutters, shaking his head. He reaches out with his other hand and brushes Mark’s sweaty bangs off his forehead. Mark has to trap an embarrassing whimper in his throat. Jaehyun treats him so gently when he’s least expecting it, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. “That’s really hot, you know?” Jaehyun continues. “You, getting off on giving me head.” The end of this last sentence is tinged bright with suppressed laughter, and Mark smiles up at him. 

“I like the way you sound when I’m touching you,” he replies softly, and Jaehyun groans, rolling away.

“I don’t have another round in me, so don’t try, because it’ll probably kill me,” he complains, and Mark laughs with his whole belly. “I don’t have stamina like you do.”

“Yeah, and then I’d go to jail for elder abuse,” Mark replies placidly, closing his eyes.

“Shut up,” Jaehyun says, but he’s laughing, too. The bed dips and then releases again, and Mark hears shuffling. Jaehyun must’ve stood up.

“You’re the one who was just saying how old and tired you are,” Mark points out. There’s a hand on his wrist; he snaps his eyes open, surprised.

“C’mon, let’s get up.” Jaehyun has already made it around to Mark’s side of the bed. He tugs gently. “Up, and give me your underwear.”

Mark pushes the blankets out of the way, letting Jaehyun haul him into a sitting position. He raises an eyebrow at him. “Thought you said you didn’t have another round in you,” he says, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress and slips down onto the floor.

“Not for that, so we can throw them in the wash and have them dry before you need to leave,” Jaehyun says, that cute pink blush rising to his cheeks, though he’s adamantly holding his hand out for them all the same. 

Mark grins to himself as he steps out of his underwear. “Let me hand-wash them in the shower first,” he says.

They get cleaned up, find Mark some sweatpants to wear in the meantime, and start the laundry like Jaehyun suggested. Jaehyun lets the dogs out briefly while Mark watches from the back stoop, grinning at Princess when she takes off, running in circles as Jaehyun picks up after them. Dogs taken care of, they all come back inside and head into the kitchen to see about breakfast. 

“As I said, I’m not much of a cook,” Jaehyun says as he rummages through his cupboards, “but I do have pancake mix and I don’t think the berries I bought on Friday have molded yet, so we could do that.”

Mark huffs out a breath of laughter. “Works for me,” he says, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around Jaehyun and squeeze his breath out. Mark always knew Jaehyun was hot, but he wasn’t expecting him to be cute, too, unintentionally endearing in the most paralyzing way. “Can I help? I mean, I dunno if you should trust me around a stove, honestly, but I could make us coffee or something.”

Jaehyun chuckles at this as he plops the bag of pancake mix onto the counter. “Sure,” he agrees. “Coffee is in that little pantry there, coffee maker just needs some water. Do you want something else, though?”

“I take a little coffee sometimes,” Mark says. “But if you have juice, I’ll have that too.”

“Orange juice is in the fridge,” Jaehyun says, and Mark nods, busying himself with the coffee machine.

They fall into a comfortable silence. The morning light streams in through the big windows that face out to Jaehyun’s backyard, coloring the whole kitchen a bright, happy yellow. Princess sniffs around their feet, hopeful for crumbs, while The Dread Pirate Roberts munches away at their automatic feeder. The coffee maker burbles softly as Mark pokes around for mugs and creamer; on the other side of the kitchen, Jaehyun scrapes patiently at the pancake mix, folding it into the milk and egg mixture as he waits for the pan to heat. 

And for one second, Mark’s life feels still, full and quiet and warm. Obviously, he and Jaehyun are just fucking. They know that. And it’s not like Mark is in any danger of falling in love with him or anything, but—this is nice. It’s like a glimpse into his own future. Not now, not yet; he’s not ready. But someday, he’ll have this: a familiar body next to his, working beside him, building a life slow but sure, one pancake at a time. Something separate from the gogogo of professional life, something rich and intangible, something for no one else but Mark and the person he’ll love. 

“Do you want sugar in yours?” Mark asks when the light on the coffee maker turns green, pulling himself out of his thoughts. 

“Just a little, and a splash of creamer, please,” Jaehyun replies over his shoulder. 

Mark makes their coffees, filing that information away for future reference. He gives himself a tiny mug, then carries them over to the little breakfast nook in the corner before doubling back to get a glass of orange juice, too. He spots the blueberries as he’s returning the carton and holds them up for Jaehyun to see. 

“These berries?” Jaehyun nods. “I’ll wash them.”

Together, they finish making breakfast and setting the table, then get settled in their seats, passing the syrup and whipped cream back and forth. The dogs come trotting up; Mark giggles when he feels Princess’s cold nose against his ankle. 

“Thank you for the coffee,” Jaehyun says.

Mark shakes his head. “No, thanks for cooking! These look really good.”

Jaehyun smiles into his coffee cup. “So,” he says slowly. “What’s the plan for today, do you think?”

“Oh,” Mark says, surprised it’s up to him. “I dunno. I don’t have anything to do, so, uh, you tell me.”

Jaehyun’s smile grows. “Well, the dogs need walking,” he says. “But other than that, I thought maybe we could just spend the day. Cool off in the pool, maybe. Get to know each other a little better.” Mark raises his eyebrows. “Literally, not like that.” Mark gives him another look. “Okay, maybe both. But seriously.  I know this—” Jaehyun gestures between them. “—is pretty casual, but I don’t want that to mean it’s impersonal.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Mark says earnestly. “I’d like—I’d like to know you, too.” He doesn’t know why it’s embarrassing to say, but he trips over the words. 

But Jaehyun—sweet, unassuming Jaehyun—just keeps smiling. “Good,” he says softly, and takes a bite of his pancakes. 

They finish their breakfast, leaving the dishes in the sink to soak, and then Jaehyun finds the leashes for the dogs. He hands Mark Princess’s. 

“She’s easier than Bobby,” he explains when Mark gives him a curious look. “She has a lot of energy, but she knows how to heel. Bob… kind of has a mind of his own.”

Mark laughs as he shoves his feet into his sneakers. “I suppose I could’ve guessed that.”

It’s not even noon, but the hot air sweeps into Mark’s face in a violent blast the second Jaehyun opens the door. “Definitely using the pool today,” Jaehyun comments, putting his sunglasses on as he steps outside. “Seattle never used to get this warm.”

“So I’ve heard,” Mark replies, following him outside and stepping out of the way so Jaehyun can lock the door behind them. “But weren’t summers really rainy?”

“They still are,” Jaehyun says. He leads them down the front path and out onto the sidewalk. “It’s a fun mix now. Let’s just hope August doesn’t bring too many fires. Is this your first summer here?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mark says. “I just go to school here. The last couple years I was back—up in Canada. Vancouver.”

Jaehyun nods. “That explains the passport.”

Mark had forgotten about that. “Yeah, I’ll probably have to carry it with me even if I do get a license ‘cause apparently a Canadian license is really popular for fakes around here.”

“I’d never heard that, but that makes sense now that you mention it,” Jaehyun comments. “So, Vancouver. I went once when I was younger. It’s really nice up there.”

“Yeah,” Mark agrees. “I actually—so, I was born in Toronto, and then we moved to New York when I was, like, seven, and then over to Vancouver when I was around twelve. I don’t have the clearest memory of Toronto, but I still really do like Vancouver the best.”

“Oh, okay,” Jaehyun says. “So you’ve been all over. Like me.”

“Yeah?” Mark looks up at him, curious. 

“Mm-hm.” Jaehyun nods. “I was born in Korea, then we actually moved to Connecticut when I was in elementary school, which is where I learned my English. We went back to Korea for the rest of my education, including college, but I came back to the States for my masters—New York, actually.” 

Mark tries to do some fast math, but concludes they probably weren’t in New York at the same time. “And then—here?” he asks. 

“Yeah, people are big on the environment out here, so I found some investors and got started on my company after getting my degree,” Jaehyun says. “I was, what, twenty-four? Twenty-five, I think.” 

“Oh wow,” Mark says, wiping some sweat from his hairline. If it weren’t for the intermittent shade of the trees lining the street and the promise of an afternoon soaking in Jaehyun’s pool, he’s pretty sure he’d melt into a puddle right here on the sidewalk. He kind of feels like he’s frying. “So you’ve been here for a while, then.”

“Yep,” Jaehyun confirms. “Almost twenty years.”

“So you like it here,” Mark says. 

Jaehyun laughs. “I guess I do,” he says. “I think when I get older, I might want to go back—to Korea. But yes, I like it here. The seasons are pretty mild—well, they used to be, anyway. And the culture is definitely better than on the East Coast, to me. And I love how green it is.”

Mark nods. “Yeah, it’s beautiful,” he agrees. “Have you been out to, like, the Peninsula and the islands and stuff?”

“I go from time to time,” Jaehyun says. “Have you?”

“Yeah, I went out to, like, Forks and stuff for spring break this last year.” They round another block, and Mark can see Jaehyun’s house come into view again. Relief washes through his body. He knows he’s not the only one; he can hear Princess panting raggedly beside him. “It was so pretty. I loved the rainforest. And the night sky—way less light pollution, you know.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing else like it,” Jaehyun says. He slows as they come up to his front walk, though The Dread Pirate Roberts tugs insistently on his leash. “Well, maybe we can find a time to go this summer if you have a weekend free,” he suggests, glancing briefly over his shoulder while they climb the stairs up his porch. “There are these beautiful cabins I really like up by Lake Quinault.”

Mark tries not to get distracted by the thought of spending a whole weekend alone with Jaehyun in an idyllic lakeside cabin. “I-I’d love that,” he says. “Really.”

“I’ll do some research then,” Jaehyun replies, opening his door and letting them into the blessed cool of the air conditioning. 

“Fuck,” Mark groans, kicking off his shoes and bending to help Princess out of her harness. “It’s scorching out.”

“Well,” Jaehyun says, releasing The Dread Pirate Roberts and letting him scamper down the hall, “it’s about noon now, so we can wait out the worst of the heat inside, and then later when the sun’s not so bad, we can take a swim. I can lend you some swim trunks. I have beer if you want it.”

“That’s illegal,” Mark points out, grinning. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“And I think I have popsicles, too,” Jaehyun adds, padding off towards the kitchen and gesturing for Mark to follow. “Want one?”

“Yes, please,” Mark says. “What kind?”

“Lime or strawberry.” Jaehyun’s voice is muffled from behind the freezer door. 

“I’ll take lime,” Mark says, and Jaehyun presents him with a faintly green popsicle, a bright red one in his other hand. 

They collapse onto the couch in tired silence, working on their popsicles as they wait to cool down. Mark squints out at the backyard. The sun glitters off the surface of the water, almost dangerous. 

“What do you normally do on the weekend?” Mark blurts. 

Jaehyun takes a moment to respond, caught by surprise. “I guess… I take care of my dogs. I work out. I usually have some business to take care of. I was on a lot of calls yesterday morning, but—” He pulls out his phone to check. “—today’s been pretty quiet.” He shrugs, swirling the popsicle in his mouth. Mark tries not to look at his lips. “I don’t know,” he says, looking up at Mark with a small smile. “I guess I don’t do much.”

“Do you mind me asking—I mean, okay, I am asking but if you don’t wanna talk about it, I’ll just drop it,” Mark says haltingly. “It’s just that, you’re successful and you’re rich and you’re—you’re really handsome, and you seem, I guess, like, normal and nice—” Jaehyun’s giving him a look that says get on with it. Mark hesitates for a second, choking on the question, then rushes on.  “So why aren’t you married? Or dating? Why are—why the sugar baby app instead?”

Jaehyun blinks; his smile turns a little sad. Guilt grips Mark’s heart immediately. “S-sorry,” he mutters, looking down at his lap. “That came out ruder than I meant it. I just—” You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. You could have anyone. What are you doing with a kid like me? 

Jaehyun sighs softly, shaking his head. “No, it’s okay,” he says. “Looking for skeletons in my closet?” 

“I… I guess,” Mark replies. “I just don’t… understand.”

“There’s not much to understand,” Jaehyun says. “It’s a cliche, but it’s true. I’m married to my work. I’m too busy for a real relationship. And—” A wry tint mixes in with the sadness. “I think I’ve gotten a little too used to solitude. I don’t know how to do anything else.”

“Oh.” It’s sadder than Mark was expecting, but—what else could he have been expecting, anyway? “Do you… do you want a real relationship?”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun says evenly, but Mark gets the feeling he’s lying. He can’t tell which direction he’s lying in, though. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh,” Mark says, his cheeks heating. Maybe it sounds like he’s trying to—get with him, or something. “No, I’m just curious, ‘cause I don’t—I don’t really know what I want, either, I guess. I think I want to get married eventually. But I’m not sure. I can’t imagine it.”

The warmth in Jaehyun’s smile comes back. “What do you imagine?” he asks. 

Mark thinks for a moment, then smiles sheepishly back at him. “I guess I imagine myself kind of like you,” he admits. “A good job. A couple of dogs. A place of my own. Yeah.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Well, it’s not so bad,” he says. “If that’s what you want, then do it. And you’re young still. If you want to change your mind in a few years, you can.”

“That’s true,” Mark says, struggling with the last of his popsicle as it threatens to slip off the stick entirely. 

Jaehyun’s polishing his off, too. “Here,” he says, holding out his hand for Mark’s stick when he finally succeeds in fitting the rest of the popsicle in his mouth. “I want a beer. Can I get you one?”

Mark nods, handing off the popsicle stick. “Yef plea,” he manages, and Jaehyun giggles. 

They nurse their beers over the next hour or so, chatting. The dogs come join them, Princess panting happily at Mark’s side as he gives her head scratches, Bobby taking over Jaehyun’s lap. Jaehyun talks about his company, how it started with pianos and violins and guitars but how he’s interested in expanding to woodwinds and things. Mark tells him about his internship, how he dreams of being a writer but more likely will end up an editor at a publishing company or something. 

“Dunno what I’ll do with my music,” he says. “Got any openings at your company?” He’s only half joking. 

Jaehyun laughs lightly but shakes his head. “Now that would be inappropriate,” he says, and Mark groans good-naturedly.

“C’mon, man,” he complains, grinning. 

“Okay, looks like the temperature is starting to come down,” Jaehyun says, standing up and carefully depositing Bobby on the floor. “Shall we?”

“Oh, yes.” Mark takes the final swig of his beer and stands, too, giving Princess one last pat before following Jaehyun to the stairs. In all their talking, he’d forgotten about the pool and the heat outside.

Jaehyun’s already in his room by the time Mark makes it up the stairs. He’s rummaging through his dresser, and produces two pairs of swim trunks a few moments later. “Blue or black?”

“Blue,” Mark says, reaching out for them. 

They change quickly, leaving their other clothes on the floor. Mark takes his gaze over Jaehyun’s bare back, the contours of sturdy muscle, the line of his waist. Desire returns in an instant, curling up in Mark’s belly like a little cat. It blinks lazily at him, asks, well? What else are you here for?

“I know I have sunblock somewhere,” Jaehyun is muttering, poking his head into the bathroom. “Aha.” He returns with a can of the spray-on kind in one hand and a bottle of gentler lotion for their faces in the other. “Let’s go downstairs.”

“‘Kay,” Mark agrees vacantly, too busy staring at Jaehyun’s pretty chest, covered with little bruises from Mark’s own mouth to give a proper response.

They pass the stuff for the face back and forth as they head to Jaehyun’s back door. Jaehyun also snags a six-pack from the fridge, then unlocks the door and leads them out into the oppressive heat. 

There’s a minifridge outside, too, behind the little bar on the patio. Jaehyun slides the six-pack into the bottom shelf, then straightens. “Here,” he says, holding up the spray can of sunscreen. “I’ll get your back, and then you can do mine.”

Mark turns obediently, wincing at the sudden cold of the spray on his heated skin. He hears the clatter of the can being set down on the countertop, and then Jaehyun’s hands are on his back, smoothing in the sunscreen, kneading at some tension in his shoulders. 

And then, lips on the nape of his neck. Jaehyun kisses him softly before pulling away. “Okay, my turn.”

Mark’s legs kinda feel like jelly, but he manages to turn and grab the sunscreen from the bar. He sprays some sunscreen on, then presses his palms to Jaehyun’s back. His skin here is smooth and unmarred, and Mark resists the urge to dig his nails in, just to hear him gasp. They’ll have plenty of time for that later. 

“All done,” he says once the streaks are gone, letting his hands linger a moment longer before pulling himself away. His voice comes out a little hoarser than usual.

If Jaehyun notices, he doesn’t say anything. While he puts the rest of his sunscreen on, Mark ducks back inside to get another beer, figuring he’ll leave the six pack outside for when they don’t want to drip all over Jaehyun’s nice hardwoods. When he returns to the heat of the patio, Jaehyun is wading into the pool. 

“Make sure the door is closed tight,” he calls to Mark when he sees him. “I don’t want the dogs to run amok. We’ll let them out when it’s a little cooler so they don’t give themselves heat exhaustion.” 

Mark double-checks the door, laughing to himself. Who the fuck says “run amok”? And Mark thought he was the one with the weird vocabulary. 

He pops the beer open at the bar, takes a quick swig, and then works on his own sunscreen. By the time he’s done and sauntered out towards the pool, beer in hand, Jaehyun is floating in the deep end. 

Mark wades in, holding the beer up just in case and stays close to the edge as he makes his way to Jaehyun. He puts the beer down on the patio and joins Jaehyun in floating near the middle. Jaehyun’s watching him, smiling.

“What,” Mark asks softly.

“You’re cute,” Jaehyun says simply, dimple popping.

“Me?” Mark blinks at him. “Like how?”

Jaehyun shrugs, sending ripples of water out from his shoulders. “Just, the way you do things. The way you waded in. You put your beer down so careful. The way you’re looking at me, now.” Mark must look as puzzled as he feels, because Jaehyun laughs. “Big, wide eyes.”

“Oh.” Mark is flustered now, not sure how to respond. “Thanks, I think.”

“I like it,” Jaehyun says, sensing his unease and paddling closer till their shoulders knock. “Really.”

“It’s just, um, I was kinda thinking the same thing about you,” Mark admits. “You’re cute, too.”

Jaehyun groans. “I think I’m a little too old to be cute.”

“Mm-mm.” Mark flips over, slotting one of his legs between Jaehyun’s so he can’t float away, using his arms to tread water. “You’re cute when you blush, and when you giggle. I’m serious, I was thinking it earlier, when—” He sucks in a breath. “When I was fucking you. You’re—you’re cute when you’re getting fucked, too.”

Something flickers behind Jaehyun’s eyes, but he smiles easily all the same. “You think so?”

Mark pushes himself closer. “Yeah, I do,” he says. He doesn’t know what’s going on in Jaehyun’s head, but he knows how to make him forget it. Their noses bump, and Jaehyun giggles. “See, there it is!” Mark rushes through the words so he can finally kiss him. It’s a little unsteady since they’re both still trying to stay afloat, but Mark doesn’t care. His teeth bump Jaehyun’s, his upper lip throbbing from the impact, but he doesn’t care. Jaehyun thinks he’s cute, and he makes Jaehyun giggle. Mark from two days ago would’ve passed out and died from joy, probably. He presses closer still, though the water makes it difficult, Jaehyun’s skin soft against his own. 

They pull away, chests heaving, watching each other over the surface of the water. Mark pants raggedly, waiting for the fog of pleasure to clear from his brain. Jaehyun’s hair is slicked back, water dripping down his forehead and jaw and neck. The world is still for a moment, just Mark and Jaehyun bobbing in the wake of their kiss, eyes never leaving each other’s.

“I’m gonna get a beer,” Jaehyun says, smiling with one side of his mouth. He doesn’t look away until Mark does, turning only after Mark goes back to the edge of the pool for his own beer, half-finished and warming in the sun. Mark clambers out of the pool from there, circling its edge and heading back into the shade where Jaehyun is bent over the mini-fridge. He must feel Mark come up behind him, or else be watching their reflections in the window, because without looking up, he asks, “Need a refill?”

“Nah, still working on this one,” Mark says, proving it by taking a sip. 

Jaehyun stands, beer in hand, closing the door to the fridge. “Then what are you doing over here?”

Mark finds the bottle opener, putting his beer down on the counter and holding his hand out for Jaehyun’s. Jaehyun hesitates a moment, then passes it to Mark. “You’re cute, but you’re also really hot,” he says quietly as he pops the cap off and hands it back. “Guess… I didn’t want to let you out of my sight.” He holds onto the bottle even after Jaehyun takes it, releasing it after a second in favor of running his hand down Jaehyun’s arm. “You look so good shirtless.”

Jaehyun gives him a warning look, but his amusement is poorly disguised. “And? Are you gonna do something about it?” He tips his head back to take a drink of the beer, but he keeps his eyes on Mark.

Mark runs his thumb over the muscle of Jaehyun’s bicep, looking at him through his eyelashes. Big, wide eyes. “I dunno,” he murmurs. “Are you gonna let me?”

Jaehyun presses his lips together, swallowing. “Mmm, if you fuck me again, I’m gonna be sore.”

“Ugh.” Mark drops his hand, going back for his beer. “That the only thing that’s stopping you, hyung?” He half-sings the word hyung, drawing the syllable out. “Cuz after dinner, you won’t see me ’til next weekend.”

Jaehyun steps up next to him and leans back against the bar, elbows up on the counter, talking to Mark almost over his shoulder. “If it were up to me, and not the limits of my body,” he says softly. “I’d let you fuck me all day long.”

Mark groans, half earnest, half for show, taking his beer with him as he spins around to stand in front of Jaehyun, stepping close and trapping him against the bar. “Yeah?” He leans close and presses a hot kiss to Jaehyun’s neck, right over his pulse, running his free hand down his waist. 

“Yeah.” Jaehyun’s voice is breathier than before, and Mark knows he’s won. He won’t fuck him, of course—he doesn’t want to hurt him, and if Jaehyun says it’ll hurt, then that’s that. But Mark has other plans. He lets his hand travel lower, down to Jaehyun’s thighs, where his swim trunks are quickly drying in the afternoon heat. They don’t cling to his skin, so it’s easy for Mark to sneak a hand under the hem. “Mark.” This is a warning, though Mark’s not quite sure why.

“What?” Mark asks, looking up at him and trying to arrange his expression into something doleful. “Your fence is high and you have a stupid huge backyard and tons of trees. No one can see.”

“I can’t limp into music lessons tomorrow,” Jaehyun protests, though he makes no move to stop him when Mark inches his fingers up his thigh.

“No? What if I fucked your thighs instead?” Mark asks, squeezing the soft skin, humming encouragingly when Jaehyun gasps. “Hm? Would you be limping then?”

“You that desperate for me, baby?” Jaehyun asks, all semblance of hesitance gone from his tone in an instant, replaced by a bright playfulness.

“’S’not desperate,” Mark counters around another drink of beer. He’s getting near the bottom of the bottle now, and it’s getting pretty warm, and gross. Still, it’s getting the job done—his lips are numbing, and there’s a tingling under his fingertips. “Not desperate,” he repeats, “you just have really pretty thighs, hyung, did y’know that? Been thinking about them all day.”

“Oh, have you?” Jaehyun saturates his tone with incredulity.

Mark pulls his hand back, finding Jaehyun’s eyes. “‘M being honest. I wanna fuck your thighs.”

Jaehyun blinks, then lets out a shaky breath. “Fuck, okay,” he says. “There’s aloe in the far drawer, that should be enough.”

Mark grins, leaning in for a kiss before releasing him, tugging the drawer open and finding the bottle. “Think one of your lounge chairs will hold both of us?"

“We’ll find out,” Jaehyun replies, and Mark laughs, looking up to see him crawling onto one, sitting on his knees, facing the back of the seat.

Mark saunters over, finishing his beer and tossing it in the recycling on the way over. He bends over so he’s eye to eye with Jaehyun. “Sure it’s okay?” he asks quietly. “Don’t mean t’ push, you’re just so—”

Jaehyun kisses him, and Mark nearly loses his balance. He grabs Jaehyun’s shoulder so he doesn’t topple them both, kissing back once he’s sure his feet are gonna stay underneath him. Jaehyun’s hand finds Mark’s waist, his hip bone, his—

“Fu-uck,” Mark mumbles into Jaehyun’s mouth when he closes his hand over Mark’s cock. Jaehyun strokes him over his swim trunks, dropping his jaw open wider so Mark can lick into his mouth. “Mm, Jaehyun, ah—” He wrenches himself away. “You wanna do this, or do you want me to come in my pants for the second time today?”

Jaehyun laughs, but his eyes are dark. “No.” He drops his hand. “Fuck my thighs.”

Mark exhales sharply, stepping to the side and coming around behind him. “Yeah, okay,” he says. He gets onto the chair right behind Jaehyun, places a kiss between his perfect shoulder blades. “Gonna let me use your body? Hyung?” He doesn’t know why he uses hyung like a taunt, but it comes out low and pointed.

“Mm-hm.” Jaehyun pushes himself up off his heels, bending over to balance on all fours instead.

Mark tugs Jaehyun’s shorts down to his knees and has to stop himself from staring, cracking open the aloe instead and squeezing some onto his palm. It’s a little stickier than lube, but it’ll definitely do the trick, so he coaxes Jaehyun’s legs a little wider and spreads it on his inner thighs, reaching forward to use the excess on Jaehyun’s balls and the underside of his cock.

“Mark,” Jaehyun chokes when Mark wraps his hand around the base and strokes up. 

“Don’t want it to chafe,” Mark says, leaning over him so he can kiss the base of his spine. It’s a shitty excuse—Mark’s big, but Jaehyun’s thighs are bigger. At most, his tip is going to make it to the other side, but Jaehyun drops his head and moans as Mark twists his wrist, clearly resigned. 

Once he’s tortured Jaehyun enough, Mark pulls back and works his own shorts down his thighs, pulling his cock free. He’s already half-hard thanks to Jaehyun groping him a few minutes ago, so he doesn’t have to do much besides spread a little more aloe over the length of his cock before he puts the bottle aside and lines himself up behind Jaehyun. He has to take one knee off the lounge chair, planting his foot on the patio beside them instead to keep steady. 

“Ready?” he asks. Jaehyun nods. “Keep them tight for me, okay?” Another nod; Mark feeds his cock between the hot press of Jaehyun’s thighs, slick with aloe, and moans a little too loud.

“They might not be able to see us, but people still have ears,” Jaehyun hisses, but he’s giggling as Mark’s balls slap against the backs of his thighs.

“Oh, fuck, that’s—” Mark grabs Jaehyun’s hips with both hands, bending over and resting his forehead on Jaehyun’s back. “That’s better than I thought it was gonna—fuck, you’re so warm, hyung. Kinda feels like—” He draws his hips back and pushes forward again, mouthing over Jaehyun’s spine, another moan forcing its way up his throat, quieter this time but just as embarrassing. “Feels like fucking a girl, mm, ’s soft, and wet, ah, fuck, h-hyung, fuck.”

“Is it good, baby?” Jaehyun murmurs. “Does it feel good, baby boy?”

Mark thinks maybe he blacks out for a second. He either stills, or his hips are moving by themselves, he’s not sure. He squeezes his eyes shut, letting out shuddering breath after shuddering breath. Baby boy. “Jaehyun,” he thinks he whimpers. Whimpers. It should be mortifying, but one of Jaehyun’s hands is over his own, thumb sweeping over his knuckles. “Oh, fuck, Jaehyun, lemme just—”

He snakes his other arm up until he finds purchase on Jaehyun’s chest, then pulls them both upright. Jaehyun gasps in surprise but goes pliantly, one hand flying up to grip Mark’s wrist, the other scrambling backwards to hold himself up against Mark’s thigh. Mark rests his cheek against the back of Jaehyun’s shoulder, pressing their bodies together and rutting up between Jaehyun’s thighs. With his other hand, he reaches around and takes hold of Jaehyun’s cock.

“Mark, hah, careful,” Jaehyun manages.

“Mm, I got you,” Mark says, slurs. Maybe he’s drunker than he thought. Or maybe it’s just Jaehyun, getting in his head and in his veins and making him slow with lust. “Keep your legs closed, hyung, you said—you said you’d let me use your body, right?” 

“Yes,” Jaehyun whispers, slow. “Baby boy.” Mark groans, scraping his teeth over Jaehyun’s shoulder blade. “You like that? You wanna be my baby boy?”

“Yes,” Mark practically keens, maybe begs. “Yesyesyes, please.” He’s not sure why he likes it so much. It’s just intimate and sweet and right. He’s Jaehyun’s baby boy, and Jaehyun will give him everything he wants. His hips are moving without Mark even thinking about it, mindless chasing the gentle friction between Jaehyun’s legs. He refocuses on Jaehyun’s cock with the tiny fraction of his brain that hasn’t been entirely corrupted by desire, thumbing at the slit. Wet noises fill the air, the sticky squelching of their bodies, but it just turns Mark on even more. It’s so gross, but it doesn’t matter because he and Jaehyun both want it, both like it.

“That’s it, baby.” Jaehyun is shaking, Mark guesses from a mix of arousal and the exertion of keeping his legs pressed tight together for Mark. “Like that, so good. You gonna come?”

“Mm, close,” Mark admits. His head swims. “Please,” he whispers. “Say—say it again.”

“Come for me, baby boy,” Jaehyun says, his voice sweet. 

“Fuck,” Mark groans, speeding his hips up. He thinks he’s digging his nails into Jaehyun’s chest, probably painfully, but Jaehyun doesn’t complain. He thrusts forward, nosing at Jaehyun’s skin, breathing in his scent—chlorine from the pool, a hot hazy tinge from the sun, and underneath, clean body, something like sandalwood and teak. Jaehyun. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s coming at first until he pulls back a little too far and some of his release spatters up his stomach and across Jaehyun’s back. Jaehyun is murmuring encouragement still as Mark’s hips slow, Mark panting hotly against his skin. 

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Mark groans when he comes back to himself a little and realizes he paused, mid-stroke, and that Jaehyun is still hard in his palm. 

Jaehyun fucking giggles, of course. “It’s okay,” he says. “Let go so I can turn around.”

Mark releases him, and Jaehyun manages to maneuver himself around so that he’s facing Mark, sitting down and leaning back in the chair.

“You’re sitting in my come,” Mark comments breathlessly as he reaches for his cock.

“I’m covered in it already, anyway,” Jaehyun points out, which Mark has to admit is a pretty good argument.

“Gross, hyung,” he says regardless, sitting down between Jaehyun’s legs and ducking his head to take the tip of his cock in his mouth.

Between both of Mark’s hands and his mouth, Jaehyun comes only a few short minutes later, curled over himself with his fingers tangled in Mark’s hair, pretty little moans spilling over his perfect lips. Mark strokes him through the aftershocks, the last of his release dripping down Mark’s knuckles and onto the already stained cushion as Mark surges up, kissing Jaehyun so he can taste himself on Mark’s tongue.

“Oh, shit,” Jaehyun mutters when they pull apart. Another giggle. “I’m never getting those stains out. I’m gonna have to buy new ones.” 

Mark slaps his hand over his mouth, but it doesn’t stop the laughter from bubbling up out of his chest. “Sorry,” he gasps out, and Jaehyun smacks him painlessly with an open palm. “You could just flip them over.” 

“No, that’s fucking disgusting!”

///

They run around the backyard with the dogs after they clean up, and then eventually order dinner and eat that out on the patio too as the air cools and the sun begins to set, steadily sobering up. As the sky begins to color, Jaehyun gathers their trash and pulls Mark to his feet.

“C’mon,” he says. “It’s time to get you home.”

Mark retrieves his underwear from the dryer and the rest of his clothes from Jaehyun’s bedroom, retrieves his phone from the kitchen, and shoves his feet into his shoes. Jaehyun waits patiently, keys in hand.

“So,” Mark says, taking his time with his laces. “Next weekend?”

Jaehyun grabs his phone out of his back pocket and brings it down in front of him so Face ID activates. “I’ll put my number in your phone,” he says. “We don’t need that app anymore.”

Mark panics for a second, wondering if his text thread with Johnny is visible, but a second later, his phone is back in his pocket without any further commentary. “Okay,” he says, standing.

Jaehyun opens the door, watching the dogs while Mark slips past. “But yes, next weekend,” he says, stepping out onto the porch as well and locking the door behind them. “I can come pick you up Friday after work, if that’s good for you?”

Mark nods, then realizes he probably can’t see him as he’s already out on the driveway. “Yeah, that’s good for me. I should get off around 5, so any time after 5:30 is good.”

Jaehyun unlocks his car and they both get in. “Sounds good,” he agrees. “If the weather’s not too bad on Saturday, I was thinking we could take the dogs for a hike. I know a nice trail—not too hard, and really pretty.”

“I’m game,” Mark says. “It’ll probably be good for me, I haven’t really been working out since school ended.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Well, I don’t think you need to worry too much,” he says wryly as he starts the car and pulls out onto the street. “You’re in pretty good shape.”

Mark grins. “Thanks.”

They chat about nothing as Jaehyun makes the drive across the city to Mark’s place. Too soon, he’s pulling up in the loading zone in front of the doors. Jaehyun turns his car off and bends forward, peering up at the building.

“This is you?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Mark says. 

“Why do you need a sugar daddy?” Jaehyun straightens, but when Mark finds his eyes, his gaze isn’t accusatory, just confused.

“Right, sorry, I kind of forget—this, my friend’s parents own this building, and they’re giving me a massive discount,” Mark explains. It’s Chenle, of course; his parents have a small real estate empire up and down the entire West Coast. “My friends and I are living here next year for school, but I’m in a studio right now since the unit I’m gonna be sharing with a couple of my buddies is still occupied by this other family. So it looks like I’m rich, but I’m just lucky.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Got it,” he says. “Sure you’re not a scammer?”

“I told you, I don’t need your money,” Mark groans, and Jaehyun laughs some more.

“I’m teasing,” he says. “Go on, it’s getting late. You can give me a tour next time.”

“Uh-huh!” Mark agrees, thinking immediately about how gross his place is since he hasn’t cleaned it in weeks. “Uh, text me if anything changes. And, um, have a good week. Probably shouldn’t—kiss, James might’ve paid the doorman to keep an eye on me.”

Jaehyun snorts. “Yeah, okay,” he says. “Have a good week, Mark.”

Mark pops the door open, waving as he steps out onto the curb. “Bye!”

He waits until Jaehyun rounds the corner and disappears before heading inside, then hurries up to his apartment and immediately starts cleaning. The sun has fully set by the time Mark is satisfied with the state of his room, dragging himself to bed and just barely remembering to set his alarm.

[kjmsupremacist]

something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 2   | prev   next   mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), alcohol mentions, poor decision making perhaps

Rating: Explicit

Length: 7.1k

Mark wonders in retrospect if he should’ve at least tried to dress up a little. Not, like, a full suit or something, but at least a button-down instead of a t-shirt under a hoodie, and maybe khakis or whatever instead of jeans he’s pretty sure he’s had since his sophomore year of high school. But it’s far too late for that now, so he pushes the doors to the coffee shop open with a deep breath.

He hasn’t told anyone about this meeting. He considered telling Johnny, but honestly he’s kind of worried it’s going to go really poorly, and he could do without teasing. Besides, it’s not like he needs someone to know his location for safety reasons. They’re just gonna chat. If it goes well and they arrange a more private meeting, then he’ll loop Johnny in. For now, it’s Mark’s little secret.

He orders his drink (a red velvet hot cocoa, if you must know, but hopefully this Yuno guy won’t ask) and looks around surreptitiously while he waits for it. The booth in the corner is empty, so once his drink is ready, he steels himself and heads over to it, dropping down onto the plush seat that faces the door so he can keep an eye out.

He’s barely taken a sip of hot cocoa when he feels someone approach. He looks up, apprehensive, but it’s—

“Jaehyun-hyung,” Mark says in surprise, tongue almost tripping over the honorific. Jaehyun had insisted on hyung when Mark tried to call him ssaem again. “Hey.”

“Mark,” Jaehyun says, sounding equally surprised. “I, uh, I saw you over here and thought I’d come say hi. What a coincidence, huh?”

“Yeah,” Mark agrees dumbly, trying to peer around Jaehyun’s shoulders for his mystery man without being obvious.

“What brings you here?” Jaehyun asks, nodding at the cup in Mark’s hand. “I thought you weren’t too big on coffee.”

“It’s hot cocoa,” Mark admits sheepishly. Jaehyun grins, dimples popping out and making Mark’s stomach flop pathetically. He has to get Jaehyun out of here before Yuno arrives, or it’s about to get really awkward—and blow whatever slim chance he might have had with Jaehyun completely. “I’m, uh, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh!” There’s a pause. They blink at each other, and Mark feels his anxiety climb a tick higher. “I am too, actually. Which—I mention only because I had arranged to meet at this exact table. With the person I’m waiting for.”

“Oh,” Mark says. “Another coincidence, I guess! The person I’m supposed to be meeting agreed to meet at this table, too.” Confusion and something else Mark can’t figure out flicker across Jaehyun’s face. “But,” he adds quickly, making to get up, “we had a second spot if this table was taken, so no worries! I can totally go.”

“No, that’s okay,” Jaehyun says immediately. “I also—I also planned a backup spot. You’re already sitting.”

“Are you sure?” Mark asks, still half out of his seat. “C’mon, I was always taught it was bad manners to make someone older than me stand if I could give them a seat.”

“I’m barely in my forties, I’m not geriatric,” Jaehyun replies, soft humor entering his voice. “It’s fine,” he adds. “The spot by the window has chairs, too.”

“Hang on,” Mark says, horror slowly dawning. “That’s—that’s your backup spot?”

Jaehyun’s expression drops. “Ah,” he says. “Yes. Why?”

“It’s just—that’s also my backup spot,” Mark says, and then rushes on before he can chicken out. “And this is starting to feel like way too many coincidences.”

Jaehyun swallows, looking around, and then slowly lowers himself into the seat opposite Mark. He leans in a little so Mark can hear him. “Are you—are you Minhyung, by chance?”

Mark’s heart hammers in his chest. He thinks he might be a little nauseous; suddenly, the red velvet hot cocoa seems like a terrible idea. “Uh, yeah, I am,” he manages. When did his mouth get so dry? “Are… you Yuno?”

“Yeah, yes, I am,” Jaehyun mutters, leaning back. “Shit.”

“Shit,” Mark repeats.

They’re silent for a minute, fidgeting. Mark watches Jaehyun through his eyelashes. The thing is, if Mark didn’t already know Jaehyun, if Jaehyun wasn’t his baby niece’s fucking music teacher, he’d be perfect. He’d fuck Jaehyun for free. Honestly, he kind of thinks he should be the one paying Jaehyun.

“Well,” Jaehyun says finally. “This is awkward. How about we just… forget this happened?”

Mark knows it’s probably for the best. Technically, there’s nothing wrong with it, but it feels weird. And kids are kinda perceptive. What if Lucy picks up on something and then says something to James? Mark’s good at lying to his parents, but James can always call Mark on his bullshit. And then what? “Yeah,” Mark says slowly. “We probably should.”

Jaehyun laughs, tracing the wood grain on the table with one of his fingers. “You’re probably relieved, right? I’m probably not what you had in mind when you were messaging Yuno.”

Mark’s stupid mouth gets ahead of him again. “Honestly? Other than the fact that you teach my niece, you’d be a great fit,” he says. “I was afraid you were gonna be, like, super old. And super ugly.”

Jaehyun lets out surprised laughter. “Well, I’m glad you think I’m not super ugly,” he says.

“No, I mean—” Mark’s face is burning, he can feel it. God, it’s so embarrassing and definitely fucked up of him, but he wants Jaehyun so bad, and he kind of doesn’t care if his brother finds out.

“That’s a bad set of criteria,” Jaehyun says. “I mean, who cares about age or looks if he’s a creep? Or a murderer?”

“What if we didn’t forget about this?” Mark blurts.

“What?”

“I mean, it’s like you just said. What if the next person I meet is a murderer? Or, like, a cannibal? Or, you know, is super old and super ugly?” Mark says. At least this gets Jaehyun to huff out some laughter. “Like, we kind of already know each other. I don’t think you’re a murderer. I’m definitely not a murderer.” And I already like you.

Jaehyun sighs. “Yeah, but what about Lucy?”

“It’s not like she’s my kid,” Mark says. “And even if she was, so what?”

“What if I subconsciously give her preferential treatment?” Mark can’t tell if Jaehyun is joking or not.

“Dude,” Mark says, and then cringes. “Is that, like, really what you’re worried about?”  

Jaehyun lets out a quiet chuckle. “No,” he admits. A pause. Jaehyun looks down at his hands, then back up at Mark, eyebrows pinched. “Mark, you’re twenty. And I’m… not.”

“You were fine with the idea before you knew it was me,” Mark points out, maybe a little grumpier than he meant it.

“Right, but—” Jaehyun cuts himself off with a sigh. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Mark arches an eyebrow at him. “It’s not like we’d be, what, in a relationship or something. I have a mind of my own, hyung. And you don’t seem like the manipulative type. We’d just—be fucking, that’s all. I’m fine with that. And I understand the consequences.”

“Do you?” Jaehyun asks. Mark thinks it was supposed to come out snappier, but mostly he just sounds weary. 

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine,” Mark says. He’s not going to try to coerce Jaehyun into this. If this is going to happen, it’ll be because they both decided to do it. 

Jaehyun presses his lips together, thinking. Mark wants desperately to keep talking just to fill the stifling silence, or else leap up and run away and be done with this forever, but he forces himself to sit still, taking another sip of his cooling cocoa.

But finally Jaehyun speaks. “The problem is I do want to,” he says quietly. There’s something under the veil of his calm tone, but Mark can’t exactly place his finger on it. 

“Oh.” Mark doesn’t know what to say. Jaehyun’s so taciturn, but when he does speak, he’s always straightforward and honest. It makes Mark feel like he’s just gotten the ground ripped out from under him. Now that he thinks about it, he should’ve known who Yuno was from the start. He texted the exact same way he speaks. He clears his throat. “Yeah, okay. Uh, but—I don’t need you to pay me. Really. It’s not like I need the money, I just thought some actual income might be nice. But—it’s you, so. So we can forget the whole… sugar daddy thing.” He has to practically drag the words from his mouth.

Jaehyun shakes his head. “Still. I would like to take care of you. If I can.”

Mark can feel himself paling at the thought. “I can’t accept money from you, hyung.”

“You came into this looking for a specific kind of arrangement,” Jaehyun counters. “It’s not fair that you don’t get… what you were looking for, just because it’s me.”

I’m getting exactly what I was looking for, Mark wants to say. “It wasn’t just the money I was after,” he says instead.

Jaehyun laughs at this. “Okay, I catch your drift. But still. Let me spoil you sometimes, at least,” he says, like he’s bartering. “Just little things. Help you out with groceries. Take you out to dinner or something.” When Mark hesitates, he continues, “I want to. I like it.”

Mark thinks about it, then nods. If Jaehyun’s offering, he’d be stupid to refuse. Besides, he seems so genuine, it almost feels rude to say no. “Okay,” he agrees.

“Okay,” Jaehyun repeats. They look at each other for a second, and then Jaehyun kind of nods to himself. “So,” he says. “How do we want to do this?”

Mark fidgets. “I mean,” he says. “We can—we can do whatever, but I’m free for the rest of today, so.”

Jaehyun smiles. “Wanna… come back to mine, then?” he offers.

“Yes,” Mark says, maybe a little too quickly. He’s almost worried Jaehyun’s gonna change his mind at any minute, and he wants the chance to prove himself before either of them can chicken out. 

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything about it, just stands, serene. “My car’s across the street,” he says.

Mark doesn’t recognize the relief for what it is until they step out onto the sidewalk. He’s kind of glad he doesn’t have to go through all the song and dance of proving he’s the right balance of hardworking, sexy, and poor to some random man just so he can get a weekly allowance. He probably would’ve made way more money that way, but the payoff is worth it. He watches the pretty line of Jaehyun’s neck as he checks for cars before crossing the street. He doesn’t have to pretend he thinks the man he’s fucking is hot. He doesn’t have to pretend he doesn’t think Jaehyun is hot now, either, except for when Lucy’s looking. In one bizarre, dizzying moment, it seems like everything has fallen into place.

Jaehyun’s car is as surprising as everything else about him. It’s all white, some fancy new kind with what is basically an iPad as the dashboard interface. It hums to life with a press of a button. Mark peeks at the different options on the stick shift, trying to be as surreptitious as possible. It looks like some kind of hybrid model, but it’s about as far from a Prius as Mark can imagine. 

“Nice car,” he says belatedly as Jaehyun pulls out into the street.

Jaehyun laughs softly. “Thank you,” he says. “I know my rich-guy side is a little hard to reconcile with the music teacher you first met, but I promise the music teacher is a little closer to who I actually am. I just… indulge.”

“You don’t have to justify it to me, man,” Mark says. “It’s, um. It’s kinda hot.”

Jaehyun laughs again, louder this time and a little flustered. “So you do just like me for my money.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Mark feels a blush rising to his cheeks as Jaehyun continues to laugh—not meanly, though it embarrasses Mark all the same. But refuting it would be so much worse. Yeah, Mark likes Jaehyun’s money. But he also likes everything else about him. The money hardly registers on the list of Things Mark Likes About Jaehyun. And he can’t possibly say that.

Luckily, Jaehyun seems like he doesn’t mind in the slightest. “Will you stay for dinner?” he asks. “I’m not much of a cook, but we can order in.”

“I’d love that,” Mark says. I guess I am just whoring myself out for food, he thinks to himself, which is fine.

They chat as Jaehyun drives. Mark tells Jaehyun which instruments he plays. Jaehyun tells him about his company—his parents made him go into something “serious” in college, but his grandmother insisted he also study something he enjoyed, so that’s how he ended up with business and music.

“They were both right,” Jaehyun says cheerfully as he pulls into the driveway of a small but pretty house and turns off his engine. “Oh, I forgot to mention—I have two dogs. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, I love dogs,” Mark says earnestly, wondering faintly if Jaehyun could get any more perfect. 

“Good, because my dogs love people,” Jaehyun says, popping his door open and stepping out of the car.

Mark follows, glancing over the plants that line Jaehyun’s front walk. Either Jaehyun hires landscapers or he just really likes gardening, but regardless Mark finds himself charmed. He likes the image of Jaehyun planning his yard, his house, his decor. 

Jaehyun’s already on the front porch, unlocking the door. Mark can hear excited barking from inside. “Back, guys,” Jaehyun says, amusement rich in his voice. “Inside voices, please. Back. Sit. Princess, sit. Good dogs. Stay. C’mon, Mark, before they run out into the street.”

“Sorry,” Mark says, jogging up the steps, kicking his shoes off quickly and ducking inside right after Jaehyun, closing the door behind him.

Two dogs are sitting right inside, perfectly still except for their tails, which are wagging furiously. “This is Princess Buttercup,” Jaehyun says, gesturing at the big Doberman on the left. “And this is The Dread Pirate Roberts,” he concludes, nodding to the small white ball of fluff on the right.

Mark can’t help it—he busts out laughing as he crouches to greet the dogs, who pop up at Jaehyun’s signal and immediately cover him in kisses. “Dude, I love The Princess Bride,” he says through his laughter.

“Me too,” Jaehyun says, sounding a little sheepish. “I know, it’s silly.”

“Yeah, it’s so silly,” Mark agrees, still laughing. “It’s hilarious, I love it.”

“People usually just call them Princess and Bobby for short,” Jaehyun says. “Okay, guys, give Mark some space. I’ll give you a quick tour.”

Jaehyun leads him into the living room, the dogs trailing after. There are plants in the corners and some kind of diffuser on one of the side tables. The back wall is floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto a large backyard, which includes a spacious patio and a clean, glittering pool. It’s not super fancy, but it’s neat and tidy. Mark suppresses a shudder at the thought of his own messy apartment. He hopes Jaehyun never asks to come over, because he is not going to be impressed.

Another (larger) part of his brain, however, is losing it over how nice everything is. Jaehyun is rich rich. It’s not a whole bunch of gaudy pieces, either, just the sort of muted air of prestige that means a stupid amount of money is hiding beneath the simple facade. 

“Don’t get too intimidated,” Jaehyun says, like he’s reading Mark’s mind. “I’m not this neat on my own. I hire a cleaning service, and they were just here yesterday.”

Mark laughs. “I’m kinda relieved to hear that,” he admits. “I’m… pretty disorganized myself, so…”

Jaehyun grins back at him, and Mark feels a knot of tension release in his back. Money aside, how they got here aside, it’s still Jaehyun. Not some random man Mark met on the internet. Jaehyun. Mark shouldn’t be nervous, he should be excited. 

“Anyway,” Jaehyun continues. Again, there’s something in his voice that Mark doesn’t understand. He’s talking quickly and his tone is a little detached, like his mind is elsewhere. “Kitchen is through there, along with my office and a guest room. You can explore later, but I think the main attraction is upstairs.”

Mark kind of wants to just take him on his stupid, beautiful leather couch, but it’s clear Jaehyun has some kind of plan, and he doesn’t want to disrupt it. “Sure,” he says instead. “Show me your bedroom.”

Jaehyun’s bedroom is much like the rest of his house. It’s simple and clean, with not much extra. There’s two pillows on his bed. The sheets are a cold, pale blue, crumpled like Jaehyun made his bed in a rush that morning. There’s a walk-in closet in one corner, door just barely ajar, and another door that Mark assumes leads to the bathroom. The windows are big, curtains open, and from up here, Mark can see just past the short trees that line the boundary of Jaehyun’s yard and into the neighbor’s backyard beyond. 

He looks back to find Jaehyun hovering near his bed, and realizes that he seems kind of nervous. Before Mark can try to think of something to say, though, Jaehyun speaks. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks quietly.

Mark stares at him for a second. “Yes,” he says. “Why… would I not want to?”

“You could have anyone.” There’s a helplessness to the way he says it, and suddenly all the weird shit Mark’s been picking up on all day makes sense. 

He steps closer to Jaehyun. Just because he’s older doesn’t mean he doesn’t need reassurance. Maybe it means he needs it even more. Mark gets to make mistakes. He gets to be awkward, clumsy, fallible, because he’s young. Jaehyun probably thinks he can’t, because he’s the older one. But the truth is Mark liked him when he thought he was just an unreasonably hot children’s music teacher, double-checking that he wasn’t letting one of his students get kidnapped.

“Maybe,” he says softly, reaching out and taking one of Jaehyun’s hands. “But I want you.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun is leaning in. 

“Yeah,” Mark breathes. “It’s kind of, um—I wanted you from the first time I saw you, I think. So you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun agrees. Mark’s already closing his eyes; he feels breath in his cheek, and then Jaehyun is kissing him.

Mark very nearly moans, thankfully catching the noise before it manages to escape, kissing back as soon as he knows what’s happening. Jaehyun’s hands come up to cup Mark’s cheeks, and Mark grabs Jaehyun’s waist to pull him closer, kissing deeper before breaking apart to give them a second to recover. 

“Is this okay?�� he asks softly, too scared to open his eyes. 

“Yes,” Jaehyun replies, knocking his forehead gently against Mark’s.

It’s like something’s unlocked inside of Mark. He’s gotten Jaehyun’s permission, and he’s absolutely going to abuse that privilege. He leans in, kissing Jaehyun again and waiting for him to relax so he can push his tongue past Jaehyun’s teeth, feeling heady satisfaction flood his body when Jaehyun fucking moans, his hands tightening on Mark’s jaw. Mark walks them blindly toward the bed, backing Jaehyun up against it until the mattress makes Jaehyun’s knees fold.

Mark leans over him, anchoring one knee on the mattress next to Jaehyun’s hip, knocking Jaehyun’s knees apart with his other leg so he can get up close. Jaehyun tips his chin up to accommodate this change, hands finding Mark’s chest and ribs instead. Mark cradles the base of Jaehyun’s skull in his palm, dragging his teeth along his bottom lip and finally pulling away. A string of spit spans the space between them before snapping midair, and it should be gross, but Mark swears it just makes him harder.

He brushes some hair off of Jaehyun’s forehead, trying to catch his breath. “Can I fuck you now?” he asks quietly.

“Please,” Jaehyun replies softly. 

Mark smiles. He feels kind of insane, actually, but it doesn’t matter because whatever wild light his eyes have taken on only seems to excite Jaehyun. “Yeah?” he says. “Gonna let me fuck you, hyung?”

“Mm-hm,” Jaehyun hums. Mark brushes his hands out of the way so he can pull his t-shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind him, then leans in to kiss Jaehyun again. He sneaks his hands down to fumble with the buttons on Jaehyun’s shirt. Somehow, he undoes them without looking, and Jaehyun shrugs his shirt off without breaking the kiss. Mark swipes it out of the way and steps back to give Jaehyun room to fully clamber up onto the bed. 

It takes Mark a second to figure out what he’s looking at. Somehow, he’d always imagined Jaehyun with a soft body—still somewhat lean, but certainly not this. Mark trails his gaze over Jaehyun’s sturdy pecs, his absolute washboard abs.

“Dude,” he stutters. He nearly bites his own tongue trying to get the words out. “What the fuck?”

Jaehyun blinks up at him, innocent confusion making his eyes sparkle prettily. “What?”

“You’re—I didn’t think—fuck, you’re so hot,” Mark manages. His limbs finally unfreeze, and he’s at Jaehyun’s side in an instant, albeit a little clumsily. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, half to himself, bending over Jaehyun’s body and pressing an almost reverent kiss between his pecs, running a hand down his torso. 

And when he looks up, Jaehyun is flushed a pretty pink, which makes Mark’s stupid dick twitch in his pants. “So are you,” Jaehyun points out, and Mark shakes his head. 

“Not the same,” he says, crawling on top of him so he can reach everywhere with ease, pushing Jaehyun’s legs apart to make room for his own, grabbing his impossibly small waist and leaning in to lave over his pulse point. “Fuck,” he mumbles into Jaehyun’s skin. His heart is pounding in his chest but he can hardly hear it for the roar of blood rushing in his ears. Jaehyun tangles his fingers in Mark’s hair, sighing, and Mark is almost dizzy with desperation, his kisses haphazardly placed as he makes his way down from Jaehyun’s neck, wet and messy. Without meaning to, he rolls his hips, mindlessly chasing some kind of friction to relieve the tension that’s coiled tight in his belly, and they both moan, Jaehyun arching up to meet him. 

“Mark,” Jaehyun whispers, and there’s a sweet tint to it that sends a shock of hot pleasure through Mark’s whole body.

“Lube?” Mark asks, cutting straight to the point because it’s a miracle he’s fighting through the fog of his brain at all. “Condom?” There’s a part of him that doesn’t fucking care. He wants to take Jaehyun right now, raw, using a little spit to get him wet and work him open, fast and rough with his impatience. Honestly, the only thing stopping him is the fear of doing serious damage, but it’s enough to curb his impulses. He satisfies himself by biting a hickey into the soft muscle of Jaehyun’s chest. His hips are still twitching, short, aborted movement, rutting down against Jaehyun’s cock, but Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Bedside table, in the drawer,” Jaehyun replies, somehow calm, and it takes Mark a second to convince himself to peel away from him to get them. He finds them easily, the lube rolling forward when he yanks the drawer all the way open. Mark snatches it up, finding a condom in the back, and closes the drawer without looking, eyes already back on Jaehyun. 

“Take your pants off,” Mark demands, setting the lube and condom down on the mattress so he can work on the button of his own jeans.

“You’re so eager.” Jaehyun’s tone is mild, but there’s an indulgent, teasing undercurrent to it. Still, he obeys, fingers finding his waistband as he looks Mark over, a fond warmth in his eyes. “You don’t have to rush. I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

And oh, Mark likes that. He likes that a lot. Unfortunately, it has the exact opposite effect than Jaehyun probably intended; instead of being placated, Mark’s desire spikes impossibly higher. “Hyung,” he mumbles, kicking his jeans and underwear off and reaching for Jaehyun’s pants to help pull them away. He swallows roughly as Jaehyun’s cock springs free, hard and glistening at the tip. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he can already hear Johnny laughing at him, and Mark can’t even blame him. He never thought he’d beg a thirty-nine year old man to let him fuck him, but—well. In his defense, the forty-one-year-old in question is the most beautiful person on the planet, and has the prettiest cock Mark has ever seen. “Fuck, I—I know, but I need it. I need you. Please.”

Jaehyun just smiles at him, placid, shifting his legs wider. “I’m right here,” he says lightly, eyes earnest. “What are you waiting for?”

Mark doesn’t have an answer for that, so he pats around for the lube while he gets settled between Jaehyun’s legs. He fumbles with the cap, hands trembling with some mixture of adrenaline and desire as he squeezes a dollop out onto his index finger. He tosses the bottle aside and spreads some of the lube around Jaehyun’s rim before sinking his finger in. Jaehyun gasps quietly, tense at first, but relaxes quickly when Mark dips his head to press a few soft kisses to his hips and waist. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” Jaehyun murmurs.

“I’ve had some practice,” Mark manages, pride bursting in his chest and making him feel dizzy. He keeps his movements gentle despite everything inside him screaming to hurry up, determined to make Jaehyun feel as good as possible. He kisses between Jaehyun’s ribs, then moves up to his chest, tonguing over a nipple when he gets close enough to reach to keep Jaehyun placated while he works his finger in and out.

Jaehyun fucking whimpers, one hand finding Mark’s hair. Mark swirls his tongue in a circle. If his mouth wasn’t busy he knows he wouldn’t be able to contain an absolute shit-eating grin. Jaehyun reacts to him so nicely. It’s kind of cute, and really hot. He’s glad Jaehyun has a house, not an apartment, glad he has a spacious backyard. Fewer neighbors to worry about. Mark wants him sobbing so loud the walls shake. He wants him ruined. 

He finally pulls off when Jaehyun begins to squirm, shifting instead to his neck. He lays a row of kisses up the column of Jaehyun’s throat, letting Jaehyun stroke his hair and murmur praise, trying to pretend it has no effect on him. 

“You’re so sensitive,” Mark whispers, scraping his teeth against the point of Jaehyun’s jaw. 

“I don’t, ah, do this very often.” Mark pushes himself up so he can look at Jaehyun and sees that his ears are the same sweet pink as the blush coloring his cheeks.

“No?” Mark asks. “Then what were you doing on that app?”

Jaehyun flushes deeper pink. “You’re only the second person I’ve met that way. The first was… a while ago.”

A strange flare of jealousy shoots through Mark, hot and poisonous. He tries to shove it down. “Oh, sure,” he says instead, giving Jaehyun a sarcastic look. 

“Besides, you were on it, too,” Jaehyun defends. 

Mark smiles, leaning in to kiss him. The glide of his finger has grown easy, so he stops to accommodate a second, pushing back in slowly. Jaehyun sighs into his mouth, grip on his hair growing tighter until Mark’s in to the third knuckle and he relaxes back onto the pillows. 

Mark breaks the kiss, mind racing as he makes what’s probably an ill-advised decision. “You wanna know why I was on there?” he asks. “Why I was really on there?”

“Not money?” Jaehyun asks breathlessly, curious. 

Mark shakes his head. “I downloaded it because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I figured—it would be the easiest way to get something close.” Jaehyun’s eyes widen, and Mark laughs nervously, wondering if he miscalculated. “Guess I got super lucky.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun says softly, his hand sliding down from Mark’s hair to cup his cheek. “So you weren’t even looking for a sugar daddy.” He sounds sort of amused, but there’s a sweetness underneath it. 

Mark shakes his head. “I was looking for you,” he says. It comes out a little bit like a plea. I know I’m not supposed to want you. I know it’s strange. But I do, I do. 

“I shouldn’t say this,” Jaehyun says, “but that’s hot. You wanted me, baby?” It’s Mark’s turn to blush and squirm now; he nods almost shyly as heat rises up his neck, his cheeks. “No wonder you seem so desperate.”

The only thing that stops Mark from combusting out of embarrassment on the spot is how gentle Jaehyun’s voice is. That, and the way his breath hitches every time Mark thrusts his fingers in—which is what Mark chooses to focus on instead of trying to come up with a reply. He kisses Jaehyun sweetly, curling his fingers as he pulls them back out, and after a few tries he strikes gold. Jaehyun makes a high, broken noise against his lips, hips jerking up almost violently. Mark does it again, kissing him insistently even when Jaehyun goes a little limp. He trembles beneath Mark as he finds a rhythm, petting over Jaehyun’s prostate with every few strokes, dark glee making his head swim. 

Jaehyun’s other arm had found its way around Mark’s torso, fingers splayed across the planes of his back. Mark melts into his touch, letting a soft noise of satisfaction slip out with his next exhale. 

It comes naturally, somehow. Mark feels like he’s hardly paying attention to what he’s doing, more of his energy invested in kissing Jaehyun than fingering him. He finds himself adding a third finger with barely a thought, like he can just tell when Jaehyun’s ready. He thought he’d be more nervous, maybe, clumsy and unsure, but now that the uncertainty is past, now that he’s in Jaehyun’s bed, now that he knows Jaehyun definitely doesn’t just see him as some stupid kid, it’s easy. 

Jaehyun lets him squeeze his pinky in alongside the rest without complaint, lets him lick the backs of his teeth, lets him grip his jaw tight and mean. His hand is still warm on Mark’s back, thumb tracing gentle circles into his skin. Mark’s whole body hums with something he hasn’t felt before and doesn’t quite have the words for. It’s like power, but softer. It’s like peace, but hungrier. 

At last, Mark’s fingers glide in and out with ease, so he releases Jaehyun, breaking the kiss and pushing himself back up so he’s sitting on his knees. 

“Am I ready?” Jaehyun asks breathlessly, smiling up at Mark.

“I hope so,” Mark replies.

“I’m not gonna break, baby,” Jaehyun says, gentle. “Promise.”

I might, Mark thinks dizzily as he works on the condom. But he just nods. “Okay.”

He rolls the condom on and slicks himself up, doggedly keeping his eyes on his own hands instead of looking at Jaehyun, not sure if he wants to see what Jaehyun looks like when he’s watching him. He walks forward on his knees; Jaehyun spreads his legs wider without Mark asking him too, lifting them up to make room for Mark’s thighs. Mark reaches down, hooking his thumb into Jaehyun’s entrance so he can line himself up.

He pushes in, getting his thumb out of the way in time, slowing down even more when he feels Jaehyun tense up around him. And, oh, the heat of Jaehyun’s body—Mark’s hand flies to Jaehyun’s waist, his fingers digging into the skin as he draws in a sharp breath.

“Mark?” Jaehyun’s voice, so soft, just barely audible over the blood rushing in Mark’s ears.

“Yeah,” Mark says hazily, too embarrassed to try and explain that the reason he froze is because he’s terrified he’s about to come, like, right now. “Just gimme a second.” He takes another breath, hoping and praying that he can hold it together at least a little while longer so that he doesn’t disappoint Jaehyun completely.

He starts moving again, sinking in slow. He’s pretty sure he’s going to leave bruises on Jaehyun’s hip, but Jaehyun hasn’t complained at all. Mark finally looks up, and sees Jaehyun looking back. His cheeks are that same pretty pink, his lips messy with spit from when they were kissing. Mark can see small bruises littering his chest. But Jaehyun’s eyes are clear. 

“Feels good?” he asks in that same soft voice.

Mark nods quickly, letting out a short punch of defeated laughter. “Maybe a little too good,” he admits. “I—I’m kinda scared to move. I swear I’m not—usually like this.”

One corner of Jaehyun’s mouth tugs up, revealing a dimple. Not fair, not fair, Mark thinks, almost plaintive. He’s so pretty, and Mark is so fucked. “Take your time,” Jaehyun encourages. 

Mark does, pushing in fractions of an inch at a time, closing his eyes in the hopes that this will stop him from getting overwhelmed. The process draws a string of truly embarrassing noises out of him anyway, but at this point it’s the least of his concerns. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind, though; he’s reached up to rub circles around the point of Mark’s hip bone, offering a little comfort. At last, Mark bottoms out and releases a long breath.

“Mm,” Jaehyun hums. “Feel so full. Could just stay like this a little, I don’t mind. I like it.”

But Mark shakes his head. “I wanna fuck you, hyung.”

Mark hears the sheets rustling; Jaehyun must have shrugged. “Okay,” he says easily. “Some other time, then.” Mark nods; he would like that, but he kind of feels like he has a job to do, and Jaehyun cockwarming him isn’t gonna cut it.

Jaehyun finally relaxes around him and the suffocating desire ebbs somewhat. Mark blinks his eyes open, drawing his hips back cautiously, watching Jaehyun’s face for signs of discomfort. His heart pounds in his chest, his ears. He can feel the jumping of his pulse in his fingertips. He shifts his weight forward, rolling his hips as he plants a hand on the mattress, lining his body up with Jaehyun’s and dipping his head to mouth at Jaehyun’s pretty neck. 

Now that their bodies have adjusted a little, Mark gets bolder, picking up the pace and putting some force behind each thrust, savoring the drag of his cock against Jaehyun’s walls, the way the tip catches on Jaehyun’s rim when he pulls out a little too far. He grabs a fistful of the sheets, knuckles turning white, tense from the exertion.

“Mark, baby,” Jaehyun pants, taking Mark’s jaw in one hand and turning his face so he has no choice but to look him in the eyes. “A little slower,” he says. “Hurts.”

“Fuck, sorry, ‘m so sorry,” Mark mumbles, trying to rein in the jackrabbiting of his hips. “I didn’t—I just—you feel so good, I—”

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun says, and then fucking giggles, and Mark thinks he sees stars, pleasure spiking under his skin and making him shake. How is he so cute? he thinks to himself hazily as he works to find a new rhythm. He’s a middle aged man, and he’s the cutest person I’ve met, maybe ever.

Mark shifts his hips a little on the next thrust in and Jaehyun moans quiet and pretty, grip on Mark’s jaw tightening a little. “Better?” Mark whispers.

“Much better,” Jaehyun replies, almost indulgent. Another thrust; another moan. “Fuck, Mark.” He tips his head back, jaw slack. “Yeah, just like that.” He settles again, finding Mark’s eyes, stroking his thumb over the hollow of Mark’s cheek. “Just like that,” he repeats, quieter. “Good boy.”

“Oh, fuck,” Mark whimpers, screwing his eyes shut and trying not to lose control. “Fuck, hyung, hyung.” He always knew he liked praise—he gets off on making his partner feel good more than feeling good himself, he always has—but it feels different, coming from Jaehyun. He feels dizzy with pride, and almost sick with an anxiety to keep doing well. He feels Jaehyun tugging him closer and goes blindly. He’ll let Jaehyun have whatever he wants. 

Jaehyun kisses him sweetly, making soft noises of pleasure, hand still cupping Mark’s cheek. Like he’s something precious. Like he’s something worth holding. Mark kind of wants to die here, because he can’t imagine being happier than this—buried deep in the hottest man on the planet, being kissed by him, being called good boy, baby. He doesn’t think anything has felt quite like this.

The late afternoon sun has found its way into Jaehyun’s bedroom; Mark can feel it on his back. When he pulls back and opens his eyes, Jaehyun’s skin is a pale gold, his eyes warm and full of light.

“So pretty, baby,” Jaehyun says, the syllables broken up by the hitching of his breath. 

Mark leans into his touch, turning his head so he can press a kiss to the heel of his palm. “So’re you,” he says, almost slurring. “Can I—can I touch you? Wanna make you feel good.”

“Please,” Jaehyun says.

Mark drops down to one elbow to make it easier to balance, rounding his back to maintain enough room between their bodies that he can reach his other hand down and wrap it around Jaehyun’s cock. He can feel how wet he is, can imagine the precome smeared and glistening on his stomach. He uses some of it to get his palm slick, spreading it down the length of Jaehyun’s cock until each stroke makes a filthy sort of noise. Jaehyun moans shakily as Mark speeds up his hand to match the pace of his hips.

“Such a pretty cock, hyung,” Mark mumbles. “I want it in my mouth next time. I’ll—mm—make you feel so good, you can even fuck my face. I can hold my breath for a really long time, y-you’ll see.”

“Mark,” Jaehyun breathes, pitchy and unstable. “Fuck, yes, want that.”

Mark runs his thumb over Jaehyun’s slit, smiling to himself when it makes Jaehyun give a hoarse cry. “Yeah?” he manages. “You’ll let me?”

“Mmhm, yeah, yes,” Jaehyun stutters. “Oh, fuck, Mark, so good.”

Mark leans closer, pressing his lips to the junction of Jaehyun’s shoulder and his neck, lapping at the skin. He tastes faintly of salt from his sweat; it makes Mark’s head spin. “Close?” 

“Yes, yes.” Jaehyun’s hips are twitching, half-thrusting up into Mark’s fist to meet him. “Don’t stop.”

“Good,” Mark whispers, a little relieved. His own arousal is looming at the fringes of his mind, almost an impending threat. He wants to make sure Jaehyun is taken care of before he lets go. He fights to keep the same pace even when all he wants to do is go harder, rougher. But this is what Jaehyun wants, and Mark will give it to him. He nips at Jaehyun’s skin with his front teeth, mostly to ground himself, but Jaehyun moans low and almost guttural. Mark feels something sticky shoot up and hit his stomach, feels it dribbling down his knuckles.

“Ah, ah, Mark, fuck.” Jaehyun’s voice fills the room as he clenches down on Mark’s cock, his chest heaving under Mark’s as another, weaker spurt of come drips down Mark’s hand. 

“Jaehyun,” Mark murmurs. His thrusts are no longer even or measured, but it doesn’t matter because he’s coming, too, Jaehyun’s legs wrapped around his waist and Jaehyun’s hand in his hair and Jaehyun’s come coating his fingers and stomach.

They lie quietly as they catch their breath. Mark knows he should pull out and get something to clean them up, but everything seems so far away. His limbs are heavy, his body tired and sated. 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun says softly. Mark hums in agreement, which makes Jaehyun huff out laughter. The movement jostles Mark, and he lifts his head. 

“I think if I try to move, my body’s gonna fall apart,” he says, and this gets him a full-bellied laugh. “Stop laughing at me, ‘m serious!”

“We can stay here a little longer,” Jaehyun agrees. “But d’you think you can move up a little? So I can kiss you?”

“Oh,” Mark says, already pushing himself up. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

They kiss lazily as the minutes tick by. Mark combs his fingers through Jaehyun’s soft hair with his clean hand. He can hardly feel the discomfort of the come drying on his body or the ache settling into his muscles. Jaehyun’s bed is comfortable and safe, the sun bright but not blinding, the air cool on Mark’s skin. In a way, Mark realizes that Johnny was kind of exactly right—Mark did need a good fuck. He’d been working nonstop since school let out at the beginning of the summer, and it’s only now that he realizes why he felt so tense. He’s glad it was with Jaehyun, though, a little giddy now that the post-orgasm glow has set in.

“Okay,” Jaehyun says finally. “Let’s get up.” Mark nods, reluctantly pushing himself up and off Jaehyun, pulling out as gently as he can and rolling to the side so Jaehyun can sit. “Do you still want to stay for dinner?”

“Of course I do,” Mark says.

Jaehyun smiles and Mark fights the urge to kiss him again. “Do you… want to stay the night?” Mark blinks. “You don’t have to,” Jaehyun adds quickly.

“No, I’d like that,” Mark says. “I’d really like that.”

Jaehyun’s pretty smile returns. “Good,” he says, half to himself. “Come on, let’s clean ourselves up and then order some food.” He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands; Mark follows him, coming around the foot of the bed as Jaehyun meanders over to the door Mark figured led to a bathroom.

“Jaehyun,” Mark says, reaching out to him. 

Jaehyun stops, turning back to look at him, taking the offered hand. “Hm?”

Mark pulls him close and kisses him, a little clumsy, but Jaehyun just giggles again, kissing him back. “I’m glad it was you,” Mark says when they break apart. “On the app. Today.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun says. His cheeks grow rosy again, but he’s smiling. “Me, too. I’m glad it was you, too.”

[kjmsupremacist]

something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 8   |  prev   next   mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), angst

Rating: Explicit

Length: 7.7k

Mark doesn’t realize it until the last day of his internship, but he’s fractured his life into three jagged-edged parts. First, his family, who think he’s the same diligent Markie who stays late at work and goes to bed early and spends his free time with his friends as he prepares for his final year of college. Second, his friends, who think he’s the same diligent Mark who spends time looking after his little niece and paying his older brother and sister-in-law back for looking after him all these years. And third, Jaehyun, who only knows the Mark that has blossomed in the bright heat of this summer, shy and cocky all at once, thrilling and pretty and free.

His family thinks he’s spending time with his friends. His friends think he’s spending time with his family. Jaehyun… Mark doesn’t want to know what Jaehyun thinks. He hopes Jaehyun doesn’t think about it at all. That would be better than him worrying silently over the sacrifices Mark makes and the lies he tells, but Mark has a feeling the latter is closer to the truth. So he doesn’t ask.

Only Johnny has a sense of what’s actually going on. But Johnny is grown up, with his own job and bills and maybe a thing for the cute guy on a different team at his company who sits three cubicles down. So while he expresses some vague concerns to Mark over how he’s choosing to live his life, Mark knows he doesn’t really have the mental space to actually keep track of him. So he agrees to help Mark lie to the others, something about wanting to be a little more independent, and just tells him to be safe.

So really, Mark’s life is in four parts, the final part being his internal world, which is vast and dark and lonely. He says bye to his fellow interns after a few celebratory drinks and tries to recall their surnames or their majors or anything really about them at all while he walks home. By the time he’s unlocking his front door, he’s still drawing a blank.

He doesn’t have much time to really piece through it, because Saturday is all moving. James is there early in the morning with coffee and breakfast, and they haul Mark’s stuff to his new unit. It’s a three-bed with a nice living room and pretty spacious kitchen, and two bathrooms, one of which features a tub and a shower. It also has a little balcony off the living room space, just big enough for a medium sized table and a couple chairs.

Mark’s sharing with Donghyuck in the middle-sized bedroom, their two twin XLs carefully tucked in opposing corners of the room to give them a little space, though Mark has a feeling Hyuck’s gonna insist on morning cuddles even though a twin is barely big enough for one. Their room has a nice big window and solid closet space, plus room for two small dressers and desks and a shared bookshelf. 

The juniors, Chenle and Jisung, will be in the smallest bedroom despite the fact that Chenle is the reason any of them get to live here at all. Technically, he could have his own studio or one-bed if he wanted, but he wanted to live with his friends, so Mark doesn’t feel bad. Those two have opted for a bunk bed for some insane reason, which remains unassembled and boxed with the rest of their furniture on the floor.

The other three are sharing the master bedroom, which features an en-suite bathroom. It’s the smaller bathroom of the two, so that will be theirs, while Mark will share the big one out by the kitchen with the Donghyuck, Chenle, and Jisung. Mark would be a little pissed that he’s not in the fancy bedroom, but Renjun and Jeno and Jaemin have some bizarre psychosexual thing going on, so he’s kind of glad they have their own space. 

He tries to be his usual chatty self with James as they clean up his old, empty unit, but he’s tired by the afternoon and his thoughts are far too absorbing. To James’ credit, he only asks if Mark is okay once, and seems to accept his answer about being stressed about school starting without question. They’re done in time for a late dinner, and Mark collapses into his new bed in his new room as soon as James leaves and instantly falls asleep despite how deeply his body aches. 

Jaehyun comes to pick him up Sunday morning while Mark’s still packing his bags, so Mark buzzes him up since it’s probably the only time he’ll get to see the apartment anyway. Jaehyun pokes around while Mark tries to remember where all his shit is now that most of it is in messily-filled boxes or strewn about his bedroom floor.

“This is nice,” Jaehyun says. “I’m surprised your friend’s parents are trusting a bunch of college kids with this. What happens when you guys throw a party?”

“They want us to be comfortable,” Mark says sheepishly. “Well, they want Chenle to be comfortable, and that means living with us, I guess. As long as we keep it clean enough not to attract pests, we aren’t a nuisance to our neighbors, and we don’t cause, like, serious damage, they don’t really care. And even if they did…” He gestures around them. “They’re kinda rich, so.”

“Alright, I guess it’s their money,” Jaehyun says with an amused grin. “Just be careful on that balcony when you get drunk.”

“We’re gonna padlock the door shut and hide the key when we drink,” Mark says drily.

“Seriously?”

“Uh, no, that was an idea I just made up,” Mark says, zipping his bag shut and groaning as he stands. “But now that I’m thinking about it, maybe we should.”

“Honestly,” Jaehyun says, hitting the lights for him on the way out of his bedroom, “it would make me feel better.”

“Buy me a good padlock, and you have a deal,” Mark replies. Jaehyun just hums, so Mark supposes he shouldn’t be surprised if Jaehyun has a package for him in a week or two.

They pack themselves up in their car and stop by a cafe for coffee and breakfast sandwiches for the road, then head out to the highway. As he drips egg yolk onto his shorts, Mark tries to shake the weird mood he’s been in all weekend. It’s just that weird transition period between phases of life, he tells himself. This trip will be a good break, and then school will start and your friends will be back and you’ll feel normal again. 

By the time they’re off the highway and starting along the winding roads that take them out through small towns and past rows and rows and rows of fading lavender, Mark almost believes it. 

They stop at one of the lavender farms to stretch their legs and unpack sandwiches from the cooler in the back, which fills the entire trunk and is stocked to the brim with all the groceries they’ll need for the week. Jaehyun made the sandwiches last night—chicken caprese on focaccia with homemade pesto. The tomatoes are cold and refreshing, and the pesto tastes like the summer of another life or something. Or maybe Mark is just really hungry. They buy fresh-made lavender ice cream from the farm’s shop as dessert. When they get back in the car, Jaehyun lets Mark kiss the sugar from his mouth with a smile.

Another hour or so of driving finds them pulling into a gravel drive that nearly disappears down a steep hill towards the lake. Jaehyun leads them into the front office to get checked in. Mark’s kind of nervous about what comments the owner might make, but there’s no one there. It’s all automated, with a little cabinet full of anything they might need during their stay. Jaehyun snags an extra fire starter and hands Mark a couple towels as well.

They drive the car down the terrifying slope and then to the right, where the road narrows and branches, leading to little cabins tucked between trees. Mark’s reviewing the confirmation email that has some instructions enclosed as they approach their booking.

“Wait, hyung,” Mark says, putting concern into his voice. “It says here that this cabin isn’t good for people with mobility limitations. Are you sure you’re gonna be okay going down the stairs? At your age?”

“You know better than anyone else that my knees are perfectly sound,” Jaehyun replies, clearly trying and failing to suppress his amusement.

“I dunno, I thought I heard some creaking the last time we fucked,” Mark says. It earns him a rough pinch to his cheek.

They unpack the car in rounds because they have to carry their things down a steep, winding trail to the front door. It takes them nearly twenty minutes to get everything inside, and in that time, they’ve both worked up a sweat in the early afternoon heat. Mark leans back against the closed door, catching his breath, while Jaehyun crouches on the floor, pretending to untie his shoes so he can hide his panting. 

“Well,” Mark says. “I think we should go for a dip.”

They dig their swimming trunks out from their bags and get changed. Mark hardly has a moment to take the cabin in, but it’s rustic and spacious. There’s a porch that hangs over the hill with clear views of both the distant mountains and the lake below. The living room is a hodge-podge of vintage furniture situated around a beautiful stone fireplace. Mark makes a note of the rug in front of it, and wonders how Jaehyun would look splayed across it. 

After a mandatory slathering of sunscreen and some proper hydration (both a pro and a con of dating someone so much older, Mark supposes), they take the uneven trail down to the lake. It converges onto a larger path, leading them past racks of kayaks and paddleboards for rent. 

“We’ll do that sometime this week,” Jaehyun says, nodding to the equipment. “Have you paddleboarded before?”

“No,” Mark admits, trying and probably failing to hide his trepidation.

Jaehyun’s smile turns a little devious. “Oh, well, we definitely have to now.” 

The lake is pretty empty when they get there. Jaehyun wades in and Mark follows. It’s cool, but warmed enough from the summer that it’s mostly just refreshing instead of dangerously icy like the lakes are here in June.

“God, it’s so clear,” Mark gasps, looking down through the water as he gets in deeper, past his waist, and can still see his toes.

“Glacial melt, I think,” Jaehyun says. “That’s why they’re usually so cold.”

Mark gets up to his shoulders, pushes off the ground, and floats out towards the center. “It’s beautiful.” And it is—the freshwater turns a sort of aquamarine in the summertime, almost like the ocean. He tips his head back, lets the water claim his hair and weigh his head down, and closes his eyes against the sunlight. 

He floats placidly for a few minutes, and then he feels Jaehyun’s shoulder bump his. Mark blinks open his eyes to see Jaehyun smiling at him. The crinkles next to his eyes. His dimples. Mark tips upright, reaching out for him. His fingers slip against Jaehyun’s waist, skin sunscreen-smooth and soft. Jaehyun turns to face him, leans in close, lets their foreheads brush.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Mark says. It’s not all he means, but it’s close enough. “Sorry I’ve been kinda quiet today. I just… I don’t know. My internship ending. School starting. Moving. Everything feels weird.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Jaehyun replies. “Or apologize. I know things are weird. I know… I know part of that is because of me.”

“It’s not—” Mark starts to protest, but Jaehyun cuts him off. 

“It’s okay.” Jaehyun bumps his nose against Mark’s. “We don’t have to talk about it. Or we can, if you want. But I’m just saying. Whatever happens next week, or the week after that, I don’t regret the last couple months, and I won’t regret today. So stop worrying, okay?”

How can I? Mark thinks. But he just nods. “Okay,” he whispers. 

They float together, skin to skin, wordless, until their fingers and toes start to prune and Mark’s stomach starts to grumble. He follows Jaehyun to shore, watching the line of his back, his arms glistening as they slice clean, even strokes through the water. I want you, he thinks. I want you. A stronger word lingers in the peripherals of his mind, but he refuses to think it. 

Most of the groceries Jaehyun brought are pre-made meals that just need a little microwaving, so dinner is on the table by the time Mark has changed into something dry and half-heartedly toweled off his hair. Jaehyun slides him an open beer and steaming container of some kind of creamy chicken pasta, which is probably full of chemicals and carcinogens and definitely microplastics, but Mark doesn’t give a shit. He burns the roof of his mouth on the first mouthful.

“Why is shitty food so good?” he asks when he manages to swallow it. 

Jaehyun laughs. “I’m pretty sure they put stuff in it that makes us want to eat more,” he says, stabbing a piece of chicken. “So I guess they’ve really got their formula figured out.”

They finish eating and head out to the porch to finish their beers. The air is a little cooler. Jaehyun gives them both a generous spray of bug repellent, but Mark finds himself swatting away the occasional mosquito anyway. The lake laps softly at the shore, and the birds call in the trees as the sun begins to set. It’s not a perfectly romantic evening, but, Mark supposes, there’s nothing about this that’s perfectly romantic.

They sit and watch the sun go down, mostly quiet. Mark is glad for the silence. They’re tired from the drive and the swim, and he’s not sure what he’d say if they started talking. He wants to ask Jaehyun what he thinks is going to happen next week. Or the week after that. Or next year, when Mark graduates. What does Jaehyun want to happen? I don’t regret the last couple months, and I won’t regret today. How can he know that? Is it a surety that comes with age? Or is Jaehyun simply not worried about what happens next? Mark doesn’t think this can be true. And yet—he turns to look at Jaehyun out of the corner of his eye. His forehead is smooth, brows relaxed, eyes calm.

Mark tries to mirror the expression on his own face, letting his eyelids droop a little in his insistence away from any tension. Regardless of the future, the point of this week is to have fun. To enjoy each other’s company away from the world, to play house a little, and ignore the rest. 

The light is dim now, and the bugs are gathering towards the lamp on the balcony. 

“Let’s go to bed,” Jaehyun says softly, standing and offering Mark his hand. Mark accepts it. 

The shower is small, too small for two, so Mark brushes his teeth while Jaehyun washes the lake and the sweat and the bug spray from his skin, and then they switch so Mark can do the same. Jaehyun is closing the blinds in the bedroom when Mark returns, the single lamp glowing warm on the bedside table, casting shadows across the room. 

Mark pads over to Jaehyun and wraps his arms around his waist, pressing his nose into the skin of his back. Jaehyun hums out his surprise, hands fluttering a moment in the air before coming to rest over Mark’s. 

“Can we not fuck tonight?” Mark blurts out. It’s muffled, but he knows Jaehyun hears him. “I’m tired, and I just want to—cuddle, I guess.”

“Of course,” Jaehyun says evenly. 

They fold themselves down into bed. Jaehyun clicks off the light. Outside, a chorus of bugs rings out in the underbrush. Mark curls into Jaehyun. Even after the shower, he still smells like lake water and citronella. 

Jaehyun presses a kiss to his hair, pulling him closer. Mark settles into him, slows his breathing, and pretends to sleep. 

///

Sleep does find him eventually, though Mark doesn’t remember falling into it. But he wakes to bright sunlight peeking through the cracks in the blinds and a bed that’s empty but warm. He pushes himself up, yawning, and tries to flatten his hair with his hands while he shuffles to the bathroom. 

Jaehyun has a breakfast of toaster waffles and bacon waiting for him when Mark finally enters the kitchen. 

“Morning,” Mark says softly. “Thank you,” he adds, when Jaehyun places a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. Jaehyun hums and kisses the top of his head. 

“I was thinking paddle boarding today,” Jaehyun says. “It’s too hot to hike.”

“Okay,” Mark agrees, trying to ignore the weird swoop of nervous energy in his stomach. 

“I promise I’ll still like you even if you fall in,” Jaehyun says, hearing the tension. 

“Are you sure?” Mark asks, feeling better anyway. “What if I look really, really stupid?”

“I’m used to it,” Jaehyun replied with a shrug and a smirk that creeps through his attempts to suppress it, and Mark kicks him gently under the table.

So after breakfast, they change into swim trunks and head back down the path to the lake.

“Why is this so heavy?” Mark grunts, trying not to stumble as he half-carries, half-drags his board down to the shore, the oar nearly slipping out of his grip and whacking his calves with every step.

Jaehyun follows behind him, infuriatingly balanced and placid. “Well, it has to support your weight.”

“You sure it’s not gonna sink?” Mark huffs, wading in and finally dropping the board into the water. It doesn’t sink. He huffs again when Jaehyun laughs.

“Attach the thingy to your ankle,” Jaehyun instructs, wading out after him, pointing. “And get out far enough that you won’t get hurt if you slip off before you try to get on.”

Mark grabs the aforementioned thingy (a Velcro cuff attached to one end of the board by a coiled, stretchy piece of rope) and wobbles around trying to fasten it to one foot, then throws his oar on top of the board and pushes it out towards the center of the lake. 

As soon as they’re out far enough to tread water, Jaehyun hoists himself up onto his board with an unfair amount of grace. I’ve seen this man drop his phone trying to turn it sideways to watch a video, Mark thinks sourly, but sure, he can do this just fine! 

“How do I get up?” Mark asks after a minute of eyeing his board. 

“Just kinda… squirm your way up. Like a seal,” Jaehyun says. 

“Oh sure, like a seal. Obviously,” Mark mutters in a weak attempt to hide his trepidation. 

After some frenzied kicking and flailing, he manages to get flat on his belly with most of his extremities out of the water. He cranes his neck around and sees that Jaehyun is already standing, paddling towards him with slow, clean strokes.

“Okay, try to get on your hands and knees first,” Jaehyun encourages. “Go slow, and try not to lose your oar.”

“Will it sink?” Mark asks, stalling.

“No,” Jaehyun replies calmly. “It’ll just be hard for you to get it back and stay upright. Come on.”

Mark, shaking, tucks his knees under his torso one leg at a time. Already he feels incredibly precarious, but he tries to push himself up onto all fours like Jaehyun said. He wobbles violently, and all his attempts to rebalance himself only seem to make it worse. He doesn’t even have a chance to ask for help, or scream, or something, before some horrible evil force is launching him headfirst into the lake. When he surfaces, it’s to Jaehyun’s bright laughter. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re having fun,” he grumbles, pushing his hair out of his eyes. 

“C’mon,” Jaehyun wheedles. “Try again.”

By the afternoon, Mark has successfully learned to paddle on his knees. He tries standing a few times but it always ends with him underwater in less than thirty seconds, so he gives up on that pretty quick. Still, he feels oddly proud of himself as they paddle back to shore. And he has to admit he feels a little better. With how hard he was trying to figure paddleboarding out, he didn’t have a chance to overthink all morning. 

“Sandwiches for lunch?” Jaehyun asks as they put their boards back. Mark grins, nodding. 

The next few days go like this—time spent outdoors, either on the lake or under the cool canopy of trees, until it gets too hot to be reasonable, at which point they retreat back into their cabin for food and naps. They stay indoors until it cools down, then go back out for one last swim before a late dinner. Most of the time, Mark is too tired to think about the rest of his life, so he’s actually pretty peaceful. 

I could live like this, he thinks, watching Jaehyun through half-closed eyes, sprawled out on the couch with a cider in hand. Here, now, everything seems so far away. Mark’s whole life seems like a dream, foggy and uncertain and difficult to focus on. This could be all there is. Him and Jaehyun in their little cabin by the lake, swimming and hiking and making sandwiches, fucking in the quiet dark hours and kissing each other good morning. The only two people in the world. 

After dinner on the fourth night, Mark waits on the pretty rug in front of the fireplace for Jaehyun to finish fussing in the kitchen. He strokes over the soft fabric, pressing his hand down and letting tufts of it caress the spaces between his fingers. He flips the bottle of lube he grabbed from the bedroom over and over in his other hand, trying to see how quiet he can make each catch. 

“I saw you eyeing that rug on the first day,” Jaehyun says from the side, making Mark jerk his head up and miss the catch. The bottle bounces harmlessly off his knee and lands somewhere on the rug. “I was wondering what you were thinking about. I guess I should’ve known.”

“Come here,” Mark demands instead of taking the time to be embarrassed. 

Jaehyun smiles and obeys, pausing only to step out of his swim trunks and shuck off the tank top, slinking over and dropping down on all fours when he’s close enough so he can crawl right up into Mark’s space, right between his thighs. He kisses Mark, quick, on the tip of the nose. “How do you want me?”

“Mm, on your back,” Mark says, giving him a light nudge on the shoulder. “Wanna see you.” Jaehyun lies back obediently, using only his core to support him on the way down, just for show. Mark runs his fingertips over his abs to let him know his efforts aren’t wasted. “You’re getting tan.”

Jaehyun smiles, reaching up to trace over Mark’s cheek and nose. “So are you. Getting some freckles.”

“My aunties will scream,” Mark says with a grin. 

“Tell them it’s part of the American Dream,” Jaehyun replies. His hands drop to his sides so he can readjust his hips, dropping his thighs open a little. Mark can see the pale, smooth, unmarked skin there, where his shorts always cover. Mark bends, getting to his knees and crawling back so he can reach the spot with his lips, finding the lube again and cracking open the bottle without looking.

Jaehyun shakes beneath him. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’re teasing.”

“I’m taking my time,” Mark corrects, lifting his head just long enough to catch Jaehyun’s eye before leaning in to kiss the tip of his cock, grinning when it twitches. He drops his jaw open, letting his eyes flutter shut, taking Jaehyun into his mouth, on the soft flat of his tongue, while he pushes a slicked-up finger against Jaehyun’s perineum. He strokes over the tight entrance, listening to Jaehyun breathe, and then pushes it in. 

Jaehyun is hot and tight as always around him, rings of muscle squeezing almost painfully at each of Mark’s knuckles. He keeps pushing, slow, steady, and unforgiving, sinking deeper down on Jaehyun’s cock as he goes, until he feels the head bump against the back of his throat. He breathes in deep through his nose, a few coarse hairs tickling at his nostrils. He curls his finger a little just to hear the noise Jaehyun makes, then works it out almost to the nailbed only to push it back in again. Jaehyun whimpers, and Mark hollows his cheek, breathes. 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun whispers. “What the fuck.” Mark lets a giggle escape, knowing the vibration will be salt in the wound of Jaehyun’s growing arousal. Jaehyun’s hole flutters around his finger, then relaxes. 

Mark continues this way until Jaehyun is hard in his mouth and he’s got three fingers working in him. He sits back, wiping the spit from his chin by dragging it across a raised shoulder. Jaehyun is limp and splayed on the pretty rug, hair a halo around his head. In the firelight, a single, white-hot strand of grey glints at his temple, like a flare in the dark. Mark bites the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t know why, but it turns him on so badly he feels dizzy.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he says quietly, pulling his fingers out with a wet squelch. 

“I’d hope so,” Jaehyun replies, and Mark pinches his hip before rolling back on his heels so he can tugs his own shorts off. There’s a tiny wet stain at the crotch where he’s been leaking precome; he sees Jaehyun zero in on the spot, but he doesn’t say anything, just flashes his tongue out across dry lips. 

Mark gets a dollop of lube and spreads it on his cock, then lines himself up with Jaehyun’s hole. The soft fur of the rug brushes his knees. “Ready?” he asks. Now he really is teasing. 

Jaehyun smiles. “Ready,” he agrees, letting his head loll to one side, eyes never leaving Mark’s face. 

Mark pushes in, slow even though all he wants to do is ram himself deep and hard inside, to make Jaehyun scream, to make him sore. But somehow the savagery in him rarely lasts long enough for him to act on it. He bottoms out peacefully, painlessly, and Jaehyun gives a satisfied sigh. Mark loves that sound more than Jaehyun’s screams. It makes something in him stir, some weird, animal part that is stronger than the sadism, that feels best when he knows Jaehyun has what he needs. It’s darker than the sadism, somehow, and possessive in a way that feels dangerous. 

“So good,” Jaehyun encourages as Mark rolls his hips, making circles more than thrusting, opening him up. Mark tries a different angle, and watches the tremor run through Jaehyun’s body. “Mm, fuck.”

“There we go,” Mark says, smiling. It’s more a baring of teeth, but Jaehyun probably likes that. He does thrust now, snapping his hips back and then forward. He knows it’s right over Jaehyun’s prostate because he spasms, moaning openmouthed.

“Pretty, hyung,” Mark singsongs, just to see that blush creep over Jaehyun’s cheeks. 

“Shut up,” Jaehyun grits out. “Oh, god, Mark. Is this what you wanted, when you were staring at this rug?”

“Yes,” Mark says. “Well, almost.” He leans a little closer, gripping Jaehyun’s hips, stabilizes himself that way, and thrusts again. Jaehyun moans sweetly. “That’s what I wanted,” he says tightly, thrusting again. “This. Good. It’s all I was thinking about.”

“I should leave you to think more often, maybe,” Jaehyun says. “All kinds of things you cook up in that handsome head.”

“Mm, what can I say? I’m innovative,” Mark replies, extra cheeky because he knows he can get away with it.

“Yes,” Jaehyun agrees. “Never met someone with a head like yours.”

“Oh, I can’t be that special, can I?” Mark says, keeping his tone offhand and light even though the words have taken him by the throat. “I’m sure you’ve fucked plenty of crazy boys in your time.”

“Mark,” Jaehyun gasps. “Mark. Baby.” Mark finds his eyes, clouded and blown with lust, but clear and sure. “No one,” he says. “No one has made me feel like you do.”

“Hyung,” Mark says, giving him a look, a chance to knock it off, a chance to lessen the blow.

“Serious,” Jaehyun insists. “Serious as you when you call me pretty. You’ve made me yours with this—” He gestures at Mark, at his hands, at the dark, hot, infinite space where their bodies are joined. “Yours. Don’t pretend you haven’t.”

“Mine,” Mark rasps, eyes rolling back in his head, and bends over him, pressing kisses to his neck, his collarbone, his sternum, his nipples. Jaehyun arches into his tongue, humming out a moan.

“Faster,” Jaehyun demands, and Mark obeys. “Not too fast. Yeah, like that.” Jaehyun’s hands, sticky with his own precome, pressing into Mark’s lower back, keeping him anchored. “Good boy. My good boy.” His teeth, scraping Mark’s shoulder. Mark’s body is all tension, a million million cords pulled tight, waiting for the snap, to let go. His heartbeat hammers in his ears, in his chest. His arms burn. His thighs burn. His belly burns. His breath is fast, and shallow, short huffs of exhales and reedy inhales that follow, riding the tide of pleasure. 

“Hyung,” Mark groans into Jaehyun’s sweat-soaked skin. He still smells like lake water and citronella. It fills Mark’s head. “You’re perfect.”

“And I’m yours,” Jaehyun murmurs, and Mark comes so hard his vision goes white—maybe he’s just squeezing his eyes shut so tight he can see his neurons firing, or maybe it’s all in his head. He comes buried deep in the harbor of Jaehyun’s body, and then collapses on top of him, arms trembling. He feels warm release against his stomach and realizes he has no idea when Jaehyun came, whether it was five minutes ago or just now. He can’t think at all; he tries to steady his breath and waits for his heartbeat to slow.

Except his heartbeat doesn’t slow and the tension in his body doesn’t ease and his breath keeps coming fast and shallow, and the burning is in his eyes now, and all of a sudden, Mark is sobbing. 

Jaehyun’s hands are on him in an instant, cradling his cheeks as Mark sits back and curls forward over himself. He coughs wetly, his mouth filling with the thick spit of misery. Each sob punches him somewhere inside, creating a hollow space that leaves Mark feeling unmoored and afraid. Tears and snot and spit drip off his chin and still Jaehyun’s hands are there, soft and steady, holding the weight of his head so Mark doesn’t have to. 

“What is it?” Jaehyun murmurs, voice pinched with pain and worry. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? Mark can list a hundred thousand things. You’re mine? Until when? When does this end? he wants to ask. When do you leave me? I want you, he wants to say. I want you to stay. I want to buy a cabin on the lake with you, I want to eat a hundred thousand microwave dinners with you, I want you to put me to bed at night and kiss me awake in the morning. I want to stay here. There’s another word for the way I want you, but I can’t say it.

And then, or I want you to leave. I want to never see you again, so that I can remember who I was before you, and find out there’s an after. Or find out there isn’t. But I want to know. I want to know who I am when you’re gone. Maybe I want to find out it’s nothing, so I won’t feel so fucking guilty about how much this hurts.

And then, I want you to say you don’t love me. Because I know you don’t. Because you can’t. I want you to say you don’t want me. Because you don’t, because you can’t. Don’t hold me so tightly. I’ll take anything if it’s from you, but in the end, pain is only pain. Right? Right?

“Mark?” Jaehyun whispers.

Mark can’t say any of it. How can he? He’s so tired. He shakes his head, crying harder. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no,” Jaehyun says, gentle. Always so gentle. Mark wishes he could hate him for it. He leans into Jaehyun’s touch instead. “Don’t be sorry. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I,” Mark says. But nothing comes. How to explain? It’s his fault, isn’t it? He was the one who pushed things on their botched blind date. He was the one who convinced Jaehyun it would be fine. He thought it would be fine, everything was supposed to be fine, when did it stop being fine? “You can’t—we’re not—we’ll never be—I mean—I don’t know—I just—“

He’s working himself up into a panic, and Jaehyun can sense it. A warm palm over his chest. “Okay,” Jaehyun says. “It’s okay. Let’s go to bed, okay? We’ll shower and go to bed, and we’ll talk about it in the morning. Okay? It’s okay. Breathe, baby. Just breathe. You’re okay.”

Mark nods, but inside he’s scoffing, it’s okay? We’ll talk about it in the morning? Whether we talk about it tonight or in the morning or in a week or never at all, whether we talk about it when I’m crying or calm, when I’m drunk or when I’m sober, it won’t make a difference. Because I’m just a kid, and you—you won’t be able to do anything about it! Because how can you, and how could I blame you? It wasn’t your idea, and it sure as shit wasn’t supposed to go like this. But I—

And still he can’t even think it. He turns his brain off, forces the thoughts out entirely in favor of numbing static. He lets Jaehyun gather him into his arms. He lets him pull him to his feet, guide him up the wooden stairs to the bathroom. He lets him pull him into the shower, lets him rinse the day off of him, lets him wrap the towel around him to dry, obeys when Jaehyun asks him to duck his head so he can pull the shirt over his body. He should feel ashamed and embarrassed when Jaehyun has to take his full weight as he carries him to bed, tucks him in, brushes the hair off his forehead, kisses him right between the brows.

But Mark is so numb, he feels nothing at all.

///

When Mark wakes, it’s to late morning sunlight and the sort of sluggish fatigue he usually only associates with a hangover. Jaehyun is asleep beside him, warm and comforting and familiar. Mark takes a deep breath, trying to blink the puffiness from his eyes, but they remain adamantly swollen, a reminder of last night’s tears. 

In the light of the morning, with all the turmoil a night’s sleep away, Mark feels embarrassed. He never thought he’d be the kind of guy who cries after sex, what the fuck? But now he is, and he doesn’t now what to do with it, what it means, what the fuck he’s supposed to say to Jaehyun when he wakes. We’ll talk about it in the morning, Jaehyun had said. It’s the morning, and Mark still doesn’t know what to say. He takes another deep breath, but it doesn’t really seem to help.

“Hey.” Jaehyun, low in his throat and slurred with sleep. Mark turns his head to him, sees the slow blink of his eyes. He lets Jaehyun reach a hand out and stroke his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Mark whispers. “Sorry about last night. Freaked you out. Are you mad at me?”

“No,” Jaehyun replies. “Worried about you, yes. But I can handle a few tears.”

“Ruined the moment,” Mark insists. “Ruined… this.”

“No,” Jaehyun repeats. He shifts a little, turning, eyes clearing somewhat. He fixes Mark with his gaze, serious. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m not freaked out, and I’m not angry.” He yawns; sleep is taking over again. “Go back to sleep,” he says softly, his eyes closing. “We’ll talk when we’re awake.”

“Jaehyun,” Mark whispers, a plea, maybe. His voice sounds small and hurt and afraid, even to his own ears. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jaehyun says, eyes still closed, mouth slowing and going clumsy as he drifts off. “You never could.”

His hand rests heavy on Mark’s cheek. Mark shifts under it, willing his hearbeat to slow. He curls back down under the blankets and resolutely shuts his eyes.

When he wakes next, he’s alone. He hears some faint rustling from below; Jaehyun must be putting a meal together. Or packing. Or something. Mark stretches, heavy-eyed and heavy-limbed, clambering out of bed and going to brush the taste of sleep from his tongue.

When he descends the stairs, something fragrant hits his nose. It’s oddly complex, and rich, so it can’t be from a microwave meal. He comes into the kitchen, but Jaehyun isn’t there, though a kettle is steaming on the stove. He sees movement beyond, and realizes Jaehyun is out on the porch.

“Hey,” he says, mostly to announce his presence, as he steps out onto the porch. 

“Hey.” Jaehyun watches him over his shoulder, gesturing to the other chair. There’s a couple fried eggs on a plate with some toast, and beside it, a cup of dark tea that Mark immediately pinpoints as the source of the smell. 

“Thank you.” He slips into the chair and brings the mug to his nose. There’s something earthy to it, and familiar. Some kind of oolong, maybe. High quality. He looks up at Jaehyun. “What’s this?”

“I thought we might need something nice,” Jaehyun said. “I packed it just in case.”

Mark takes a sip, letting it sit on his tongue and settle him a little. He takes a bite of eggs. Jaehyun seems content to let him eat, staring out at the water and sipping his tea.

At last, Mark’s plate is cleared and his mug of tea isn’t so steaming. “Jaehyun,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun looks over at him. “Sorry for what? It happens. Sometimes things get messy. It’s our mess.” His eyes are understanding. “And what a mess, hm?”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t,” Mark mumbles. “Become a mess.”

Jaehyun laughs humorlessly. “I suppose I was hoping the same. But here we are.” A pause, a sip of tea. “Mark.” Mark blinks. “I want you to be honest with me. Okay? No matter how you answer, it’s fine. I won’t be upset. But I want you to be honest.”

“Okay,” Mark whispers, nodding.

“Last night, in the… confusion of it all, you said—or almost said, I guess—something about us. About how we’ll never be something. I didn’t want to press then, because honestly I was kind of worried you were gonna start crying so hard you’d throw up.” There’s a hint of humor there, at least. “What did you mean?”

“Jaehyun,” Mark says, blowing out a breath. He almost says, I don’t remember, or I have no idea, I was just speaking, I was emotional, it didn’t mean anything. But Jaehyun asked him to be honest. He presses his lips together and turns to look over the water, thinking about how he wants to say it. Jaehyun doesn’t rush him.

Finally, he clears his throat. “It’s only been two months since I met you,” Mark says, “and my world has been turned on its head.”

“I know,” Jaehyun replies. “Me too. And I never meant—for any of this to happen, Mark, really.” He’s leaning across the arm of his chair, looking at Mark intently.

“I know,” Mark says. “Me too.”

Another silence stretches between them. It’s not uncomfortable, or tense. They’re waiting, Mark knows, for the right words to find them. Maybe if they wait long enough, the words to fix everything will come.

“Still,” Jaehyun says. “Here we are.” He pauses, even though Mark is sure he already knows exactly what he’s going to say next. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. Anyone.” Mark clenches his hands into fists until his nails dig into his palms. “I spent my life waiting for someone who felt right to come along. And in the meantime, I’ve been good. You know? I’ve done everything right. All my life. I studied hard, I started my own business, I got rich and paid my parents back tenfold. I was careful, smart, dedicated. I bought a house and paid it off. I invested my money in the right places. I was never frivolous. I was waiting until I was secure. I’m growing old, waiting. And I’m starting to think the person I was waiting for is you.”

It sparks something in Mark; he turns in his chair so suddenly, his mug on the table rattles, but he can’t bring himself to look at Jaehyun. “How can I be?” he demands. “How can I be? I’m still in school, I’m not—I mean, we have to want different things, you and I.” 

He chances a look up, and sees Jaehyun looking back with this terrible fondness in his eyes. “I can wait,” he says softly. “I’ll wait for you. I’m in no rush. I waited years and years for you, Mark, without knowing it. I can wait a little longer.”

It punches all the fight out of Mark. What the hell can he say to that? No? How could he? He settles back in his chair, sighing. “So what are we gonna tell everyone?” His friends would understand, probably. He could maybe even talk James around. But his parents? He wouldn’t be surprised if it sent his mother into full on cardiac arrest.

Jaehyun shrugs. “We’ll figure it out. Okay? We can figure it out. We don’t have to say anything right away. We have time.”

Mark looks over at him, head resting against the back of the chair. “Hyung,” he says. “What if everything goes wrong?”

Jaehyun stares at him a moment, and then says, honestly, “It might.” He spreads his hands in his lap. “But then, it might not. And I think it’s worth it, anyway. You’re worth it, to me.”

“Oh,” Mark says. He supposes that’s the only question, at the end of it. Nothing is easy. You’ll never know if something is right until you do it. So knowing that, knowing it might all go wrong, knowing how it may ruin you, is it worth it? Even if your worst fears come true, will the value of trying outweigh your regret? “Yeah,” he says. “Me too. You’re worth it to me, too.”

Jaehyun grins, leans across the table between them, nearly upsetting their cooling tea, and kisses him. Mark reaches up and cups his jaw with both hands and kisses him back. He still has a thousand questions and his heart is ramming in his chest like a butterfly in a glass jar, but Jaehyun’s right. They have time. And even if in a month, two months, a year, things look different, it doesn’t change the fact that this is what they want right now. 

They break apart. The sun is past the meridian now, afternoon creeping up on them quiet like a cat. “When we finally figure our shit out,” Mark says. “When it’s not hard anymore. When everyone knows. Promise me we’ll come back here. This lake, this cabin.”

Jaehyun smiles, all teeth and dimples. “Promise,” he agrees. “Now come on.” And suddenly he’s standing, finishing the last of his tea, collecting their empty plates.

Mark stands, too, taking a gulp of his tea. “Where are we going?”

“The beach,” Jaehyun says simply, popping the door to the kitchen open with his elbow and ducking inside. Mark hurries to follow.

///

“When you said we were going to the beach,” Mark says, watching the sleepy town of Neah Bay pass out the window, “I thought you meant, like, nearby. And, like, the actual beach.”

“This is better than a beach,” Jaehyun promises as they pass the town boundary and head down the road towards the forest. 

The hike takes them a good couple hours, but suddenly Mark finds himself standing on weathered cliffs, staring out at the magnificent rock formations that make up the mouth of the Cape Flattery sea caves. The waves crash against the stone, impossibly loud, and though they started the trail sweating, Mark finds himself grateful for the light jacket that Jaehyun insisted he bring. 

“It’s beautiful,” he says, stunned. 

“Better than a beach?” Jaehyun prompts, nudging his shoulder.

“Better than a beach,” Mark agrees. 

“I’ll take you to a real one tomorrow,” Jaehyun says. “But I thought maybe—just some time with the sea today.”

“Yeah,” Mark says faintly. He can barely hear Jaehyun. He can barely hear himself think. The waves are so loud and huge and soothing. He feels so small suddenly. Who the hell cares if Jaehyun is almost double his age? Will it stop the tide? Will it crumble these cliffs, stop the sun from setting, poison the lakes and kill the fish and stop the world from turning? Isn’t he just an animal? Who is he hurting, by doing this?

Myself, maybe, he thinks. Jaehyun, maybe. Jaehyun could lose his business, Mark could be rejected from jobs, if they got the wrong kind of attention. It wouldn’t ruin Jaehyun’s whole life or take away his wealth. They would be fine, but they’d have to hide. Could Mark live with that? 

The answer doesn’t come. He thinks of the career he’s always dreamed of. He thinks of James and Lucy loading their car. He thinks of the sea, and the cliffs. He thinks of the cabin on the lake. He thinks until his thoughts are flashes of color only, until the sun begins to set, until Jaehyun takes his hand and warms his fingers in his palm.

He thinks this is enough, for now.

[kjmsupremacist]

something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 6   |  prev   next   mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), alcohol and vomit mentions

Rating: Explicit/Mature we're toeing the line here

Length: 6.4k

July passes quickly and without consequence. Mark’s life is pretty much the same—weekdays spent in the office, weekends with Jaehyun. His birthday falls on a Friday, so he’s going to James and Annie’s for dinner, and then out for drinks with Johnny and Yuta and Ten. Jaehyun was the first out of everybody he knows to wish him a happy birthday, the text coming in right at midnight. Mark is trying not to think about it, because it’s making him kind of giddy, and he doesn’t want to have to explain himself.

James picks him up from work, AC blasting in his Prius. “Mom made me promise we’d call,” he warns as he pulls out into traffic. “So I’m gonna get us together for that as soon as we get home, before Lucy gets too tired.”

“Sounds good,” Mark says, amused. 

“Speaking of Lucy,” James continues, “I was hoping to take Annie on a little vacation next weekend. Just one night, we’d leave Saturday morning and be back Sunday afternoon. Think you could watch her for us?”

“If you pay for our food,” Mark agrees. “And pick me up and drop me off.”

“Fair enough,” James says, shaking his head. “You’re hired.”

Mark laments the lost time with Jaehyun in his head, but he can’t really put his heart in it. It’ll be fun to hang out with Lucy, and she goes to bed early so he can stay up playing video games or something. Besides, Mark likes Annie, so he has to help his brother do something nice for her. 

Deals struck, they spend the rest of the car ride chatting about Mark’s birthday plans. Johnny said he had an itinerary for them but wouldn’t tell Mark what it was, and Yuta and Ten both seemed pretty excited, so Mark’s a little nervous.

“I’m kind of scared they’re taking me to some crazy strip club or something,” Mark says. 

“If they are, don’t call me to come pick you up because I’m just gonna laugh my ass off,” James says, grinning, as he pulls into his driveway.

Lucy is at the door with her mother, telling Mark happy birthday as soon as she lays eyes on him. “Eomma said you’re—twenty-one,” she says. “You’re way bigger than me.”

“I think that’s the nicest way to be called old,” James says with a laugh. “Believe it or not, Luce, you’re gonna be twenty-one someday, too!”

Mark takes her hand. “I’d rather be three than twenty-one,” he says. “Three’s a good age.”

“Three’s the best age,” Lucy agrees firmly. “‘Til I’m four, and then four’s the best, and then five…” 

Annie brings dinner to the table while James tries to figure out where he wants to put his iPad for the call. Finally, he settles on leaning it up against the napkin holder on the far side of the table and calls their parents.

“Happy birthday!” his parents burst out in unison as soon as the FaceTime connects. 

“Thank you,” Mark says with a grin.

They chatter about his life, how work’s going, if he’s ready for school in the fall. His dad tells him they’ve sent him a little care package that should arrive in a couple days.

“What are your plans for tonight, Mark?” his mother asks. “Oh, do you have someone special to take you on a date?”

“No, I’m just going out with some friends,” Mark says over Lucy’s giggling. 

“Aw, that’s good, but I hope you can find someone soon!” his mom presses. “James and Annie were already together at your age. Our Mark is so smart and handsome, I’m sure plenty of boys are interested!”

“Ugh, Eomma, I’m busy with school, I’m not like James. He had himself figured out.” Mark makes a face at James across the table, trying to ignore the strange stinging in his chest. “I can barely manage myself, how am I supposed to manage somebody else?”

“But you’re all alone,” his mother protests. “We worry about you!”

Mark knows she means well, and normally this kind of questioning honestly wouldn’t bother him. He’s fine not having a partner. Except… he thinks of Jaehyun. It’s not exactly true now, that he’s alone. And Jaehyun is going to be the reason he’ll remain publicly single for the foreseeable future, at least. But he’s not the same as a real boyfriend. He never will be. Because even if Mark and Jaehyun could work something out, how on earth would he tell his parents? They’d never accept it. Would they? “I have my friends,” Mark says instead, but it sounds a little flat to his own ears. “I’m fine, really.”

“Mark’s independent,” his father chimes in, saving him. “He’ll settle down when he’s ready.”

They exchange a few more pleasantries, the parents asking after Lucy. Mark lets her steal the spotlight, mind darkening with thoughts of the future and not quite able to focus on the bright conversation at hand. He does tune back in to finally say goodbye with a promise to call soon, and they’re left to dig into their cooling dinner.

Once they eat, Mark helps James clear the table while Annie runs to “get a surprise” from upstairs. James pulls Mark’s cake out of the fridge, along with numbered candles, a two and a one. The cake is a red velvet from Mark’s favorite bakery with pale blue frosting—James said he realized only after it was going to look like the American flag, but that he was more focused on getting a flavor Mark liked and his favorite color.

“It’s fine, man,” Mark says, grinning. “Thank you anyway.”

“Here, open this first,” Annie says. “Your friends will be here any minute, and I think they’ll want to participate in singing Happy Birthday.”

“This” turns out to be a very pretty hardcover anthology of Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry and short stories. Mark flips through it, genuinely touched. “Thank you,” he says, looking up at them. “This is going in a place of honor on my bookshelf. Can I leave it here tonight?”

“Of course,” Annie says, laughing, accepting it back. 

“We were originally looking at some nice first-edition books,” James says. “You know, like those rare ones. But they require special care and storage, which I don’t think you have access to quite yet.”

“Yeah, I appreciate the thought but I’m glad you didn’t,” Mark says fervently. “I think the responsibility would’ve given me a heart attack.”

Just then the doorbell rings, and when Mark answers it, Johnny, Yuta, and Ten are waiting. “Just in time for cake,” he says with a grin, leading them inside.

The candles are still lying haphazardly on the table next to the cake. “You’re turning twelve?” Johnny asks sarcastically.

 “Dude,” Mark says, rolling his eyes over Yuta’s shoulder as he’s squeezed into a hug.

James puts the candles on the cake (in the correct order) and then lights them while Annie flicks off the lights. They all sing Happy Birthday, with Ten egging Lucy into doing some silly additions at the end, and then Mark blows out the candles and the lights come back on so they can slice out the cake.

“So where are you guys off to tonight?” Annie asks.

“Top secret,” Johnny replies. “But we promise we’ll get him home safe.”

Mark kinda feels like a little kid all of a sudden. He forgets sometimes that Johnny and Yuta and Ten are all around James’ and Annie’s age despite the fact that they’re Mark’s friends. He takes a bite of cake. He thinks maybe he’s always going to be in a hurry to grow up.

The cake is eaten, and Lucy’s getting tired, and the bus is coming soon anyway, so they head out without too much more fanfare. The sun is working on setting, so the air is cooling but still hot. Yuta slings an arm over Mark’s shoulders as they make their way down the sidewalk. “Ready for your big night?”

“I’m getting more and more terrified by the minute,” Mark replies, which makes the other three laugh. 

“We’re just taking you out to our favorite bars,” Johnny reassures him, though his grin still seems a little too wild. “We’ve just never really seen you out and about! It’s different from those little college parties we go to.”

“I’ve been out drinking before,” Mark grumbles, but he knows going to the bar for a drink with James on his nineteenth birthday in Vancouver is not the same as going out clubbing here, now.

“You have your passport, right?” Ten asks.

“Yep,” Mark says, patting his pocket. “Which I’m sure isn’t going to score me any points.”

“Maybe it’ll make you look exotic,” Johnny says.

“Or just like a fuckin’ loser,” Mark grumbles. “You all have your licenses.”

“Well, you can fix that anytime, honey,” Ten points out, and Mark just gives a groan of defeat.

They pile onto the bus, collapsing into the four-across sideways seats that are elevated over the center of the first section, Mark on one end with Johnny next to him. While those two chat, Johnny ducks his head and asks, real quiet, “How are things with the DILF?”

Mark jabs him with his elbow; Johnny doesn’t react. “They’re fine,” he hisses. “He hasn’t tried to murder me yet.”

Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “You seeing him this weekend?”

“I told him maybe tomorrow, if I don’t feel like shit,” Mark replies. “So don’t try to get me wasted. Now shut up, if those two find out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Johnny actually listens to him for once, and the rest of the bus ride is peaceful. Ten pulls the stop wire, and they get off on a busy street. Mark doesn’t see their destination at first, but finally zones in on an unassuming bar down the street.

Yuta notices the look on his face. “We’re starting you off easy,” he explains. “Can’t expect you not to bolt if we just threw you right into one of those gay clubs where everyone is naked.”

“We’re going to a gay club where everyone is naked?” Mark asks, looking down at his shorts and t-shirt combo.

“They have a coat check,” Ten says cheerfully. “And I brought something for you.” He points at the fanny pack that Johnny has clipped across his chest.

Mark doesn’t know if he likes the sound of that, especially not if it can fit in there, but he has to admit a small part of him is excited, too. Maybe with a few drinks running through his system, the excitement will win out. 

This bar, though, is busy but not crowded, well-lit enough that Mark can see where he’s going, and casual. They order a round—beer for Johnny, mixed drinks for the rest—and sip on them. Mark looks around the bar, seeing couples, groups of friends, the occasional loner. He wonders if Jaehyun has been to this bar. It’s a little under his general lifestyle now, but when he first came to Seattle, he was poor, and could’ve easily ended up here. The bar definitely looks old enough, far more than that. He’s not sure those sprinklers are up to code.

Mark gives himself a shake. However ominous his friends’ plans seem, he’s here to have fun with them. He can’t do that if he’s letting the ghost of Jaehyun’s younger self haunt him up and down the streets. He takes a long pull of his drink, earning himself a cheer from Ten. 

The next bar they go to is a little more upbeat, but there’s not a dance floor, so Mark guesses their plan is to get him pretty drunk before entering an actual club. That’s fine. He slams back another mixed drink and finishes Johnny’s beer when he decides he doesn’t like that one and goes to get another. By the time they leave their third bar, Mark’s definitely solidly buzzed, whatever padding he had from dinner gone. 

Good timing, too—the next place is a club, and they get carded at the door, pay a cover fee, and get their hands stamped before being allowed in. Ten drags him to the bar, where he is apparently recognized. Over the pounding music, he points at Mark and shouts something about it being his twenty-first birthday. 

In an instant, tequila shots are poured for all of them and a lime wedge is shoved into one of Mark’s hands while a small pile of salt is collecting on the back of his other one. Mark screws his eyes shut, licks up the salt, and takes the shot, chasing it quickly with the lime so he can convince his taste buds that everything is fine. 

“An extra one for the birthday boy,” the bartender says with an easy smile, passing Mark something else, which he balks at.

“Don’t be a baby, it’s a green tea shot, it’s yummy,” Ten goads, and, fuck, Mark’s being offered free drinks, and he’s always been a sucker for peer pressure, so he throws that one back, too. As soon as the glass is back on the counter, Ten is chirping a thank-you to the bartender, saying something about getting Mark laid tonight, and dragging him out to the dance floor.

“Ten, I’m not going home with anybody. Or bringing anybody home,” he shouts as they push through the crowd. 

“Oh-kay,” Ten singsongs, turning when he finds an open spot at pulling Mark close to dance. Johnny and Yuta appear on either side, so Mark is trapped. “But you can at least have a little fun. Dance with someone. Kiss someone! It’s your birthday!”

The only person Mark really wants to be kissing is Jaehyun. Jaehyun. It’s not like they’re exclusive. They’ve never even tried to discuss what they are. Jaehyun’s never made any indication that he’d mind, but… as far as Mark knows, he’s the only person in Jaehyun’s life right now. So it feels a little unfair.

He extricates himself from Ten’s hands. “Promise I’m not running away,” he says when he gets some concerned looks. “I just have to piss.”

He weaves his way out of the crowd and finds the bathroom. It’s dinky and gross, but whatever. He locks himself in a stall in case one of his friends follows him in, and then opens his text thread with Jaehyun.

hey, this is bad timing but I’m out with my friends like I said and I guess I never thought to ask if you’re cool with me like dancing with other guys and stuff? <;<<

I know it’s not like we’re actually dating or whatever but I thought I should ask <;<<

Jaehyun’s response comes pretty quick.

>>> Don’t worry about me baby

>>> It’s your birthday. Have some fun!

Mark chews his lip, looking over the message. Somehow, it’s not what he wanted to hear. He wanted… he wanted Jaehyun to say no. He wanted Jaehyun to say he was his, and no one else’s. But, he reminds himself with a pang in his chest, they don’t belong to each other. 

okay, if you say so! <;<<

I’m not sleeping with anybody else though. Promise. <;<<

He can practically hear Jaehyun’s soft laughter in the next reply.

>>> You don’t have to promise that

>>> But okay :) have a good night and stay safe! call me if you need anything

Thanks <;<<

It makes Mark feel worse, honestly. He pockets his phone and goes to wash his hand so he doesn’t look like a weirdo, and then heads back out to the dance floor to find his friends. What did you expect, dumbass? he berates himself as he excuse me, sorrys his way through the crowd. Of course he doesn’t mind. You’re just fucking. There’s no reason for him to be possessive or emotional about it. So neither should you.

By the time he spots Johnny’s head over the sea of people, he’s resolved to forget all about Jaehyun tonight. Fine, if Jaehyun doesn’t care who he kisses or who he fucks, then Mark won’t turn anyone down tonight. He’ll prove to Jaehyun (and himself) that there are other people out there for him, and that he’s just feeling a little attached because Jaehyun’s the only person he’s fucked in the last year or so. Not because it’s real. 

“Thought you really had run out on us,” Yuta shouts with a grin when Mark joins them. 

“Nah, I just couldn’t figure out the drawstring on these!” Mark shouts back. “My fingers don’t work when I’m drunk!”

Not too long after, some pretty boy comes up and asks Mark to dance with him. Mark accepts, peeling away from his group a little so they can have some privacy. Mark doesn’t catch his name but pretends he hears him after he repeats himself for the second time.

“I saw you guys chatting with the bartender!” The guy shouts. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“No, it’s my friend that knows him,” Mark replies. “I haven’t been before.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“It’s my twenty-first birthday,” Mark explains.

“Oh,” the guy says with a smile. He leans in closer. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Mark says, leaning in, too, and kisses him. 

And it’s fine. Good, even. But he’s still thinking of Jaehyun when they pull away, and with that comes a sort of sobering disappointment. Mark tries to brush it aside. One kiss isn’t going to fix you, he thinks. You have to keep going.

“What?” The guy looks a little confused, and Mark realizes he’s kind of just been looking at him.

“Nothing,” Mark says. “D’you wanna go get another drink?”

The night kind of blurs from there. Mark doesn’t black out, per se, but he definitely loses track of time and becomes quite malleable. He lets his friends whisk him on to the next club, and the next, dancing with strangers and making out with a fair number, too. It gets a little better, but nothing sparks in his stomach the way he’s kind of hoping it does.

They reach the club Ten was talking about. He strips to booty shorts and a fucking hot pink bikini top, because of course he does, and shoves a black crop top and matching shorts into Mark’s hands. It’s not atrocious, so Mark changes, since he doesn’t fit in here in his own clothes. Yuta’s literally wearing a jockstrap and a tiny leather vest, which Mark is honestly kind of impressed by. Johnny, on the other hand, simply takes off his shirt to reveal a harness across his chest and back.

“What the fuck?” Mark asks, and Johnny just grins and saunters off to coat check.

The lighting is dark blue-purple and sexy, and everyone is just as naked as Mark and his friends, so he quickly loses his self-consciousness. Besides, Mark knows he’s hot, and this is confirmed by the number of people that put their hands on him in the span of the next half an hour or so, offering to buy him more drinks. He lets himself get lost in it, giving out kisses freely, even guiding the hands lower when he likes the person they’re attached to.

But even through the weird lust-haze and alcohol, Mark still feels kind of empty. Not in a bad, hollow way, necessarily, just a little lonely. This is fun, and these guys are hot. But they’re not Jaehyun. 

Finally, when Mark nearly trips over himself on the way to the bathroom, Johnny calls it a night. He retrieves their clothes and they gather in the bathroom to get changed before figuring out how they’re getting home. 

Mark is a short bus ride away, so Johnny offers to come with him to make sure he makes it home while Ten and Yuta try to figure out Ubers. 

“It wasn’t too much, was it?” Ten asks, slurring a little. “You had fun?”

Mark can honestly say that he did, despite his inner turmoil, so he nods. “Yeah, Tennie,” he says, trying and failing to get Ten’s face to focus. “I had fun.”

Ten gives him a happy kiss on the forehead before they head outside. Yuta takes Mark by the elbow so he doesn’t trip on the stairs, and then they’re out in the cool night air. Johnny and Mark wave goodbye to the other two and hurry down to the nearest bus stop.

“You weren’t lying to Ten?” Johnny asks. “You really had fun?”

“Yeah,” Mark says earnestly, or at least as earnestly he can when he’s not really sure what his own voice sounds like. “I think ‘m the right amount of drunk. Wouldn’t do it every weekend, but I get the appeal.”

Johnny grins, ushering him onto the bus and into a seat. “Think your DILF will mind?”

This sobers Mark somewhat. “I know he doesn’t,” he says.

Johnny blinks, surprised. “You okay?”

“I texted him to ask,” Mark explains. “If he would mind. And he just… told me to have fun.”

“That’s good, right?” Johnny asks, now thoroughly perplexed.

“I guess,” Mark mumbles. “I just—I dunno. Thought maybe he would care more.”

“Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings,” Johnny says.

“No,” Mark refutes quickly, then shakes his head. “I dunno. Maybe.”

“It’s not gonna end well, man.” Johnny’s voice has gentled, and Mark thinks that might break him. “Hey. Look at me.” Mark peeks up miserably. “You, Mark Lee, are young and hot and cool, and you can do way better than some random middle-aged guy. No matter how good of a fuck he is. Or how much money he has. Okay?”

Mark sighs and nods. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Johnny reaches up for the stop wire. “Want me to stay the night? Keep an eye on you?”

Mark shakes his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m not that drunk. Mostly just tired. I don’t think I’m even gonna puke.”

“Good.” Johnny leads him outside and walks him down the street to his building, all the way up to the front door. “Then have a good night.” He opens his arms for a hug and Mark accepts. “And happy birthday, man.”

“Not my birthday anymore, it’s like three a.m.,” Mark argues into Johnny’s chest. Johnny laughs.

When Mark gets up to his room, he immediately just strips and heads into the shower to get the layer of everyone else’s sweat off his skin. As the water’s heating, he unlocks his phone and finds it still open to his texts with Jaehyun.

I miss you <;<<

wish it was you tonight instead <;<<

He’ll probably regret it in the morning, but right now he’s too drunk and tired to care. He sets his phone on the counter and steps into the steaming shower. 

When he gets out, a single text is waiting for him.

>>> Go to bed, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow

Mark leaves his phone there, the text unanswered, flicks off the lights, and collapses naked into bed. Despite the spins that threaten to overtake him, he’s asleep within minutes.

///

Mark wakes with a dry mouth, a pounding headache, and the dull but insistent push of nausea in the back of his throat. He rolls out of bed with a groan and shuffled into the bathroom to gag into his toilet. Most of what comes up is burning liquid, and once he’s done, he does feel better, though the headache persists. 

He lets himself rest on the floor by the toilet for a few minutes before getting up to swish with mouthwash, since brushing his teeth is going to require hand-eye coordination that he currently does not possess. He checks his phone, which is cheerily displaying the ungodly time of 7:13 a.m., and doesn’t see any new texts.

Mouth sufficiently washed, Mark slaps around the medicine cabinet for some Advil and takes two of those with a handful of water right out of the tap, then drags himself back to bed. He crawls under the covers and knocks right back out. 

The next time he wakes up, it’s to a significantly weaker headache, no nausea, and full body aches. He lies there, weighing the merits of just dying right here and decomposing, but ultimately decides against it because Chenle’s parents don’t deserve to clean up that kind of mess. He scoots out of bed, uses the bathroom, and checks his phone while he actually brushes his teeth. 

He reads over his texts with Jaehyun last night and groans. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thinks, rinsing out his mouth and cleaning his toothbrush. He takes a couple more Advil and then decides he should probably get some food in his stomach while he considers what to say. 

sorry about that ^ haha 😅 <;<<

about all of it really <;<<

It takes Jaehyun the time it takes for Mark’s bread to toast to reply. 

>>> All good! How’s the hangover?

>>> Think you could meet me for brunch?

Mark munches on his plain toast, contemplating. 

hangover was worse this morning, I’m better now <;<<

but yeah give me like an hour or two <;<<

>>> Okay, see you at noon!

Mark gets himself a glass of water and then flops down on his couch, taking sips of the water and small, tentative bites of his bread. It settles his stomach even more. Maybe he’ll actually get to enjoy brunch.

After letting his body adjust to being awake for a bit, he finally gets up and gets himself ready. Takes a quick shower to get the vomit-sweat off. Brushes his teeth again. Tries to style his hair. Gets dressed in something he hopes is brunch appropriate. By the time Jaehyun texts to say he’s outside, Mark almost feels like a person again.

“Hey, baby,” Jaehyun says with a sympathetic grin. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a semi and also poisoned,” Mark replies, dropping into the passenger seat. “Mostly fine, though.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Good twenty-first?”

“Could say that,” Mark replies, thinking of all the boys he kissed. He wants to tell Jaehyun about it. He wants to say I met so many people last night and they were all great but they weren’t you. He wants to say why didn’t you care who I was kissing? Why don’t I matter to you? He wants to say is it allowed that I let you matter to me? “Where are we going?” he asks instead. 

“One of my favorite brunch spots,” Jaehyun says. “I made a reservation last week, figured it might be around this time. It’s casual but popular.”

Maybe Jaehyun cares more than Mark gives him credit for. He made a reservation last week. Clearly, he’s been thinking about it. “Sounds good,” he says genuinely. 

The restaurant is, in fact, crowded, with a long line of people waiting to put their names down. They’re taken to a small table near the back and left alone. Mark’s not sure he should go for anything partially cooked, or anything overly sweet, so he settles on a small plate of scrambled eggs and bacon with potatoes, and stresses to their server that the eggs be well-cooked. Jaehyun laughs at him over the rim of his water glass.

“I remember my twenty-first birthday,” Jaehyun says, grinning. “I was in much worse shape than you the next day, so good job.”

“What did you do?” Mark asks, intrigued.

“Well, like you, I was from a place where I could legally drink earlier, so it wasn’t my first time having unrestricted access to alcohol,” Jaehyun says. “But unlike you, I suffered delusions of grandeur and thought I could take on that stupid twenty-one bar challenge.”

“Like, go to twenty-one bars and have a drink at each?” Mark asks, wrinkling his nose when Jaehyun nods sheepishly. “I had maybe like seven or eight drinks last night, and I think that was one or two too many. So did you make it to twenty-one?”

“God, no,” Jaehyun says. “I blacked out at like maybe twelve, and my boyfriend at the time later told me I had a few more after that before promptly vomiting them back up onto the sidewalk. At least we were outside.” 

Mark is struck with the sudden and sharp reminder that Jaehyun has lived a whole life before him. He had boyfriends when he was younger, boyfriends he loved. He’s probably had his heart broken more than once. There’s a clawing hunger in Mark’s chest to know more, to know it all, to peel back all of Jaehyun’s layers until he’s seen every last one, to lave over his most secret parts with his own tongue—and there’s fear, too; fear that he might not like what he finds, and worse, fear that he will like it, fear of his own hunger and what it might mean.

“What were you like?” he asks quietly. “When you were my age? Did you go out with your friends like that often?”

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. “No, I was always sort of shy and soft-spoken. I liked going out, but only if people I knew were there and only if I could get home quickly.”

Mark can imagine it. Jaehyun’s face, bright and fresh with youth, skin smooth and free of smile lines. The flush of his cheeks. The same silly laugh. He imagines him in the corner of some bar, arms crossed over his chest with a beer in one hand, tucked against his bicep. Watching his friends quietly. He imagines a red-faced and drunk Jaehyun knocking back shots amid cheering. Stumbling out onto the street and vomiting unceremoniously at his own feet. The pinch of his eyebrows. The sweat on his hairline. Mark’s heart feels like it’s been beat flat with a meat tenderizer. He gives Jaehyun an unsteady smile. “I can’t imagine you any other way,” he says.

“So, anyway, obviously the next morning I was in the worst pain I’d ever been in in my life. I spent well into the afternoon alternating between sipping a little water and going to throw it back up again,” Jaehyun continues as their food arrives. “Thank you. At one point, my friends were considering just taking me to the hospital because I was so dehydrated. I told them to wait until the evening, and I’d go if I wasn’t better by then, because I was so embarrassed and I didn’t want my parents to find out I’d been so stupid.” Jaehyun shakes his head ruefully. “Lucky for me, by around three or four, I was able to keep a cup of water down. I swore up and down I’d never drink again, but… you know how that goes.”

Mark nods, popping a potato in his mouth and making a noise of appreciation. As usual, Jaehyun’s found a great spot. “That’s kind of hilarious,” he says. “I’m glad you didn’t die.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jaehyun giggles. “I am proud to say that’s the last time I’ve blacked out from drinking, and one of the last times I ever threw up from drinking, so at least I learned my lesson kind of.”

“That is impressive,” Mark says. “I know logically my limit is about six drinks, but somewhere around drink five I get convinced I can do like five more, and it all just goes downhill from there.”

“Did you blackout last night?” Jaehyun asks curiously.

“I don’t think so,” Mark says, and then remembers his texts to him and cringes. “I am sorry about those texts from like three a.m. I literally remember thinking, like, I’ll probably hate myself in the morning, and then sending them anyway. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, laughing. “No, I was up late doing some work,” he says. “Don’t worry about it. They definitely could’ve been worse. All you said was that you missed me, which is fair. I’m pretty great.”

Mark groans. “Still, it was kind of pathetic of me,” he mumbles, stabbing at the last of his potatoes.

“Well,” Jaehyun says, chasing a blueberry around his plate with his fork. “You’re young. You’re allowed to be a little stupid. It’s okay, really. I think I’m flattered that I’m the one you’re drunk-texting.”

“Who else would it be?” Mark asks without thinking. 

Jaehyun blinks at him. “I don’t know,” he says evenly. “I don’t know what you do when you’re not with me.”

And you don’t care, Mark thinks bitterly, and then mentally smacks himself for being childish. “Please, I don’t have time for anybody else,” he says, keeping his tone light. “My god, I almost forgot. Me and James called our parents last night so they could wish me a happy birthday, and my mom started interrogating me about who I was dating since James and Annie were, like, already engaged at my age. Most unserious conversation I’ve had in a while.”

Jaehyun gives him a weary smile. “I hope I’m not keeping you from people your age,” he says.

Mark waves him off. “I’m telling you what I told my mom. I can barely deal with my own shit. Dealing with someone else is off the table.” Jaehyun gives him a weird look. “You don’t count, I don’t have to deal with you. You take care of me.”

Jaehyun’s expression morphs back into a smile, this one markedly less weary. “I certainly try,” he says. He nods at Mark’s nearly empty plate. “Ready to head out?” 

Mark nods. Jaehyun pays, and they gather their things and pick their way through the maze of tables towards the door. Mark slips into the passenger seat and Jaehyun starts the car. There’s a natural ease to it that, even though Mark’s weird tumultuous feelings, he finds comforting. 

“I think we would’ve gotten along,” Mark says. “If we were the same age and met in college.”

Jaehyun turns to smile at him, like really smile, dimples popping handsomely. “I think so, too,” he agrees. 

When they get home, shoes kicked off at the entrance and dogs tended to, Jaehyun turns to Mark. “How are you feeling?” he asks. “Wanna nap?”

Mark gives him a look. “If you’re asking if I’m feeling well enough to fuck you, I think you know the answer.”

Jaehyun laughs and kisses him. Mark melts under his touch. It feels perfect. Everything feels so perfect. He doesn’t know exactly what it is except that it’s Jaehyun. He wraps his arms around Jaehyun’s waist and kisses him, their teeth knocking in his eagerness. 

“You okay?” Jaehyun whispers when they separate.

“Just,” Mark says, but doesn’t know how to continue. How’s he supposed to explain without revealing himself? When it’s clear Jaehyun doesn’t, and won’t, feel the same way? “I know those texts last night were, like, cringey and dumb, but I really did miss you.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Jaehyun says. “C’mon.”

They head up to Jaehyun’s room, where the early afternoon sun is lighting up the space. His sheets are white today, and practically blinding. Jaehyun shuts the door behind them and heads over to the window to lower the blinds a little so they don’t get sun directly in their eyes. Mark watches him, that same terrible tenderness still holding onto his heart. All he can do is keep imagining Jaehyun younger, next to a faceless boyfriend, someone who had Jaehyun, really had him, and lost him anyway. There’s some bitter jealousy there, but also a strange kinship. Mark will join the ranks of Jaehyun’s unknowable past lovers, the way Jaehyun will join Mark’s. One day he’ll be a memory, a ghost that Mark’s future partner might never even find out about. He thinks again of a life he’ll have in that future, one that might look something like this. Lazy Saturday afternoon sex, post-brunch, in a sun-warmed bed.

Except this time in his vision, Mark’s potential future partner has a face. It doesn’t happen on purpose. He doesn’t mean to imagine it this way. But in his head, it’s the younger version of Jaehyun, smiling at him with those dimpled cheeks from across the mattress. His is the body waking up beside Mark’s, working beside him, building a life, slow but sure. One pancake at a time. 

Tears sting behind Mark’s eyes before he realizes what’s happening. Because that can never come true. As much as Mark might want it, Jaehyun’s not going to be able to wait around for him to grow up and finally be ready to settle down. By then, Jaehyun might already be well on his way to his fifties. And that’s if Jaehyun even wants him in the first place, which he doesn’t.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun’s suddenly in front of him, tilting Mark’s face up and searching his eyes.

“Nothing,” Mark manages, blinking rapidly and willing the tears away. “It’s just super bright in here. Hurts my eyes.”

“I can put the blind down all the way,” Jaehyun says, accepting this easily.

Mark shakes his head, leaning into Jaehyun, hooking his chin over Jaehyun’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his middle. “No, this is perfect,” he says. 

“Okay,” Jaehyun agrees.

They pull each other’s clothes off slow and gentle, pausing to kiss over the freshly exposed skin before continuing. Jaehyun guides them to his bed, and they settle atop the soft duvet. Mark preps him blindly, not wanting to pull away from his mouth. When he finally fucks him, it’s quiet, sweet, sensual. None of their usual roughness and quick, panting breaths. There’s something different underneath, too. Mark’s put it to the test, and he’s still choosing Jaehyun. And Jaehyun, despite all the warning signs, seems to be letting him. Something blooms in Mark’s chest, but something withers, too. He pets Jaehyun’s baby-soft hair and kisses him and tries not to imagine what his life would be if this was every day. 

But even though he knows it’s impossible, some small part of him insists. Why not Jaehyun? If things were different, couldn’t it be him?

But they’re not different, he reminds himself firmly, swallowing one of Jaehyun’s soft moans when he rolls his hips up just right. This is what you have. This is it. It will have to be enough.

“Where’d you go, baby?” Jaehyun whispers. “You seem far away.”

Mark shakes his head, both to refute Jaehyun’s statement and to clear his mind. “I’m right here,” he insists. And he forces it to be true. He focuses on the feeling of Jaehyun’s skin on his, the unsteady pattern of Jaehyun’s breath, the tightening of Jaehyun around him. The sun on his back, warm and comforting.

He comes first, but he can hardly feel it. 

[kjmsupremacist]

devovere (mark/jaehyun)

There is no use for pride between them, no use for anything that isn’t a sort of begrudging loyalty. Jaehyun is a demon, and Mark is the witch who summoned him. He made a circle of his own blood and drew him up from the realm of shadows by the force of his own will. Jaehyun is his to command until Mark gets what he wants, and then Mark is Jaehyun’s to consume, body and soul.

It’s no wonder Jaehyun thinks Mark’s blood tastes the best.

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun

Genre: oneshot, smut, demons, magic, pwp kinda

Warnings: murder, blood, gore, violence, mild suicidal ideation, generally sus content, dead dove: do not eat

Rating: Explicit

Length: 3.3k

Mark’s hands are slick with blood and leave prints on his door, but he doesn’t care. It’ll keep even the bravest and nosiest people away while he recovers. He’ll scour them clean tomorrow.

Mark lives alone, but there is someone else in the house. Something else. It lingers in the shadows of the unlit hallway as Mark takes his time with his shoes, fitting itself into its human form so Mark can look on it with ease.

“I smell blood,” it says. 

“It’s not mine,” Mark replies.

“I know.” It—he, Mark supposes—steps into the dim light cast through the front windows.

“You wish it was.” It’s a statement, not an accusation or an apology. Mark is too weary for either.

“Yours tastes the best.” Hands, still settling into their human skin, reach out for Mark’s arm. 

Mark draws back just out of range. “Jaehyun,” he says. It’s the only name he’s been offered. It’s better than demon or servant, so Mark takes it. 

“Let me help you,” Jaehyun says.

“Not here,” Mark says.

Jaehyun makes a noise of discontent, but doesn’t disobey. “Shall I carry you to the bath, then?”

“I can walk,” Mark says, tries not to snap. “I’m not a child anymore.”

Some soft amusement rumbles in the back of Jaehyun’s throat. “I only meant to spare your floors.”

“Oh.” It’s a good point. “Fine, then.”

Mark lets Jaehyun sweep him up in his arms and cradle him close to his chest. He climbs the stairs with ease. Mark lets his eyes droop. Jaehyun is the only one who has ever carried him. Jaehyun is the only one who will ever carry him. So Mark decides it’s not a slight to his pride. 

How can it be? There is no use for pride between them, no use for anything that isn’t a sort of begrudging loyalty. Jaehyun is a demon, and Mark is the witch who summoned him. He made a circle of his own blood and drew him up from the realm of shadows by the force of his own will.

“What is it you want?” Jaehyun had asked him, shadowy hand over Mark’s eyes so he would not be damaged by the sight of his true form. At least, Mark thought it was a hand. “Whatever you desire, I will give you the power to achieve it. Tell me, human child.” For Mark had been a child then, fifteen and trembling with a need so great, only a demon could answer it. “What do you want?”

“Everything,” Mark replied, and Jaehyun laughed into his ear.

And so they made a contract. Jaehyun is his to command until Mark gets what he wants, and then Mark is Jaehyun’s to consume, body and soul. 

It’s no wonder Jaehyun thinks Mark’s blood tastes the best.

Mark had friends, once. When he was young, before the circles of blood and demons with sharp teeth, he thought friendship would save him from loneliness and obscurity, would soothe the years he spent afraid and powerless. He thought love could replace everything he lost. He thought he could forget his past and settle into a small life.

But Mark was not meant for such things. He could only have the best, and all the love in the world would not be able to give that to him. Only loss could answer to loss. Only blood could answer to blood.

His friends didn’t understand. They knew nothing of hunger. They begged him to undo it, but there was no undoing a contract with a demon—not that Mark would have wanted to anyway. 

Jaehyun knows hunger. Mark sees it in the flash of his eyes, feels it in the softness of his tongue against Mark’s skin. Mark has never been wanted, but Jaehyun hungers for him, and Mark thinks that’s close enough. After all, one could want themselves into starvation. Mark has had enough of starving. 

Mark supposes their story could be read like this: a boy raised without parents, victim to a demon with hunger enough to swallow the whole world. There’s something living in the walls of the home. In the walls of the heart. Waiting. The boy with a dark stain of greed dripping down his body, starting at the hands. The inhumanity. The world loses. The demon wins. The boy never really stood a chance. 

But Mark knows that’s not true. The boy is not so helpless. He chose this, chose to seek his revenge, chose to dream of his enemies instead of his past, chose to live quickly and all at once, taking great bites of the world again and again until the day it makes him choke. Mark thinks there’s nothing more human than this—grief and greed intertwined around and around until they are inextricable, Mark and his demon at the center of it, forever. Like a grave. Like a home. 

Jaehyun lowers him into the empty tub without bothering to turn on the lights. He peels Mark’s shirt away with practiced hands. “How long until the work is done?” he asks softly.

“Do you grow impatient?” Mark asks.

Jaehyun’s lips curl up into something like a smile. “Of course not,” he replies. “It’s only curiosity.”

“Not yet,” Mark says. “You’ll know when it’s time. If it was time, I wouldn’t have bothered to come home.”

“I know,” Jaehyun murmurs. 

Mark’s clothes create a bloody heap beside the tub. Mark will have to clean them tomorrow. But tomorrow is far away.

Jaehyun pulls his own clothes off next, folding the white shirt, the slacks, the socks, all of it, until he is bare. He climbs into the tub on top of Mark, smearing the blood across Mark’s skin, then bringing his fingers up to his mouth to taste. “Ah,” he says simply. “The CEO. And his family?”

“Of course,” Mark replies. He knows Jaehyun can taste the indulgence in the blood, thick and stifling. Mark thinks maybe even he can smell it. Or maybe all blood is sweet and heavy when there’s enough of it.

“Even the children?” He’s not even searching for confirmation, Mark knows. He just wants Mark to say it. 

Still, Mark bristles. “I was a child once,” he says. “That didn’t stop them.”

“I know,” Jaehyun placates. “I know.”

“Yes, even the children,” Mark concedes.

“They were afraid.” Jaehyun almost croons it; he sounds proud. He dips his head and presses his tongue, flat, against Mark’s clavicle. “They were afraid of you.”

“Mm,” Mark hums. He knows. The women and children screamed. Only the old man did not, though his skin was clammy and unattractive with a nervous sweat, as if of a fever of terror. “Is it sour?”

Jaehyun nods, laving Mark’s chest with his tongue. “Very,” he says. “They were petrified.”

“Good,” Mark sighs. “Perhaps my parents will rest more easily now.”

“Will they?” Jaehyun asks. “As you water their graves with blood?”

Mark pinches his side, smiling when Jaehyun gasps in shock. “Their ghosts cannot reach me,” he says. “You know what I mean.”

Jaehyun quiets, going back to his task. Each swipe of his tongue clears more blood away. “I know,” he agrees. “It’s not criticism. I want you this way.”

“I know,” Mark says. He runs a hand over the spot he pinched, soothing. Jaehyun chose this body because he knew Mark would find it pleasing, so Mark supposes it’s his right to enjoy it. Most of his joys are tainted by something, so one like this, simple and unblemished, is a relief. He brings his hand to Jaehyun’s back, pressing at the knobs of the spine. Jaehyun digs his fingertips into Mark’s arms as his mouth travels lower, chasing the blood pooling at Mark’s belly. 

Mark settles back against the tub, the surface warming slowly to the heat of his body. There’s something about this—Mark, coming home to his demon, dripping in blood just like the day they met. Jaehyun, beautiful and sinister, delighting in washing him clean. The boy and his demon, dancing closer and closer until the turns are dizzying and it all blurs into nothing. 

Mark’s front is nearly clean. Jaehyun moves to kisses instead, almost gentle if not for the scrape of his teeth. He swipes up some remaining blood with his fingers, then reaches back. Mark can’t quite see, but he can tell exactly when Jaehyun pushes past his perineum from the shiver it sends through his body. This skin is so sensitive—something else Mark knows Jaehyun chose on purpose, just for him.

Mark tries to shift in the tub, but the walls are slippery with blood and his palms slide down the surface with no resistance. Jaehyun looks up, eyebrows slightly pinched. Mark can’t tell if it’s concern for him or only from the strain of working himself open. He settles again so he can reach out and run his thumb over Jaehyun’s bloodstained lips before he can duck his head. Jaehyun’s tongue flashes out, quick and eager, tasting the skin, finding the dried blood caking Mark’s cuticles instantly. He takes Mark’s thumb into his mouth, closing his lips around the base and swirling his tongue over the tip. It makes Mark’s cock twitch where it’s trapped between their bodies; Jaehyun must feel it, because he moans softly, mostly for show. The sound gets to Mark all the same. 

Jaehyun lets his eyes flutter shut, and Mark contents in watching him as he finishes prepping himself. The skin may be human, but it is imbued with Jaehyun’s demonic strength, so it doesn’t take long before Jaehyun’s working four fingers in and out with ease. He scoops up more blood from the floor of the tub, keeping himself nice and wet the way he knows Mark likes it. 

“Ready,” Jaehyun murmurs at length, nudging Mark’s hand away from his mouth and pushing himself up on his knees so he has room to maneuver himself on top of Mark’s cock, hands braced on either edge of the tub. 

Mark reaches around to spread Jaehyun with one hand, lining himself up with the other, and Jaehyun sinks down, fast and easy, with little resistance. Mark tips his head back as he bottoms out, and Jaehyun pitches forward, bloodied hands finding purchase on Mark’s chest, incisors scraping at the tender skin of his neck. 

He doesn’t move right away, just sits, mouthing at Mark’s pulse, breathing slow and deep—in, out, in, out. The moon shines through the window now, bright silver and almost full. The illusion of Jaehyun’s skin wavers but holds. Mark runs a hand down his back, nails scratching lightly, and resists the urge to thrust up. Jaehyun doesn’t like to be rushed. 

“Mark,” Jaehyun breathes, low and dark and beautiful. Mark hums in response. “Mark, you’re perfect.”

Mark knows this means he is ruined beyond repair. He smiles lazily. Good. Fast and all at once, as he said. It’s pride that blooms in his chest as Jaehyun shifts his hips, rolling them forward at last. It mixes with the quiet arousal and bridges it to his bone-deep exhaustion. The things he’s seen would kill almost anybody else, but not him, because he has a hunger for retribution, and a demon who hungers for him and all the things he’s done. 

Jaehyun begins moving in earnest, hands coming up to cradle Mark’s jaw. He bends over him, licking into his mouth, and Mark can taste blood on his tongue, sharp and metallic and a little sweet. He knows he reeks of it, knows the smell has soaked into the walls of this home, knows that his soul is stained with it, red and red and red again, wherever one might look. 

It did not have to be this way, Mark knows, but it is, and that’s all that matters now. Yes, this is all he has, the boy and his demon and their house of blood, house of grief, house of greed, house of all the things that bind them together. The hunger so deep and vast it’s almost like love. Mark has lost so many things but he thinks they were all worth it because they brought him here—power clenched safe in his fist and a beautiful demon with a soft tongue and sharp teeth waiting for him every day and every night.

“Jaehyun,” Mark mumbles against Jaehyun’s lips.  It comes out blurry, like he’s slurring. Jaehyun strokes his cheek with his thumb, pinching Mark’s lower lip between his front teeth. “Fu-uck, Jaehyun.”

“So good,” Jaehyun murmurs. “You like this, don’t you? When I ride you in a pool of the blood of all those you killed?” Mark shivers. It shouldn’t be hot, it should be disgusting, but it’s not. It’s not his fault he likes killing—or maybe it is, but that doesn’t stop the dizzy satisfaction from dripping into his veins like molten gold. His hips jerk up instinctively, chasing the feeling of Jaehyun clenching around him. His hands find Jaehyun’s hips, fingers scrambling to take hold. “You’re so good, you’re worse than me,” Jaehyun continues. There’s amusement running under his tone. “This is why I love humans. You find new ways to enact horror. My fellow demons lack imagination. But not you, not you.”

No, Mark knows. Not him. He has reached into dark corners without fear, sinking deeper and deeper into the mire of his own sins, half-mad with bloodlust and drunk on omnipotence. It might’ve burned him, once, but now it’s comforting. He’s almost excited for what he’ll do next. Nothing can save him, and Mark doesn’t want anything to. He’s happy here in this empty house. He has all kinds of ghosts, and Jaehyun is the best of them.  

Jaehyun kisses him breathless, grinding down on his cock, hole clenched tight so Mark can feel the delicious drag of it, can feel the warm stickiness of the blood smearing against Jaehyun’s walls and mixing with his precome. All things unholy. This is almost a ritual of its own. Mark sinks his hands into the gaping void of his hunger, comes out dripping with filth, and Jaehyun cleans him of it, washing pieces of Mark away. Soon there will be nothing left. Mark is looking forward to the peace that will follow. 

Eventually, Mark tires of the slow burn of desire sitting at the pit of his belly. Jaehyun may be a demon, but Mark is his master, and he will always have to give way. Mark tightens his grip on Jaehyun’s hip with one hand, bringing his other hand up to Jaehyun’s hair, filling his palm and making a fist. Jaehyun gasps prettily, tipping his head back as Mark thrusts up into him with a satisfied grunt. 

He goes faster, and though Jaehyun’s knees knock against the tub, he doesn’t complain. His jaw is slack, eyes half-lidded and watching Mark, corners of his lips just barely curled in a lazy smile. Mark snaps his hips up and Jaehyun hiccups out a sigh, hand slipping from Mark’s cheek to his shoulder. Mark can feel the wind of his breath on his skin, fanning across his chest and raising goosebumps despite the heat of their bodies. 

“Yes, yes,” Jaehyun hisses, eyelashes fluttering. “Come here,” he wheedles, tone dripping sugar like poison, “kiss me, make me come.”

Mark curls up, releasing Jaehyun’s hair so he can support himself. Their teeth knock upon first impact, but neither of them stop, and Mark can’t stop himself from moaning when he feels Jaehyun’s tongue running over the roof of his mouth. The smell of blood fills Mark’s nostrils, sickly sweet and so familiar. Jaehyun rolls his hips down to meet Mark’s thrusts, clenching tight until Mark sees stars, until the tension in his belly snaps and heat washes over Mark’s skin as he comes, buried deep inside.

Mark’s hips twitch weakly. His body doesn’t feel like his, but it’s just as well. It’s not his, it’s Jaehyun’s, and the demon makes to prove this by working himself up and down to milk the last of Mark’s release out of his cock. Mark trembles, but Jaehyun keeps moving, a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Touch me,” he demands, slinging both arms over Mark’s shoulders. “It’ll be faster if you touch me.”

Mark’s brain is foggy from his orgasm and the crowding discomfort of overstimulation, but he manages to lift a hand and wrap it around Jaehyun’s cock. He’s wet with precome and sweat and blood, so the glide is easy. Mark thumbs at the slit, stretching his thumb so he can move his fist, and at last Jaehyun stills, body going tight, and he spills white over Mark’s knuckles. His release spatters down to Mark’s stomach, mixing with everything else. It’s nasty, but Mark doesn’t care, too relieved and too tired to do anything about it. 

He doesn’t need to anyway. After a moment, Jaehyun climbs off of him with ease. Mark’s own come, pink with blood, drips out of him, but Jaehyun doesn’t seem to notice or mind. He steps out of the tub and crosses to the shower, turning on the water so it can heat while he goes to retrieve Mark. He scoops him up with impossibly strong arms, holding him against his side while he presses the drain plug into place and starts the water in the tub too, so it can rinse away the mess they left behind. 

Mark lets Jaehyun soap him, his hands gentle on his skin. The water runs pink down the drain, and when it is finally clear,  Jaehyun hands him a towel and Mark wraps himself in it, patting the water away and rubbing his hair. He hangs the towel back up as Jaehyun drains the tub, and then they make their way to bed. There is a trail of blood from earlier out the door despite Jaehyun’s best efforts, but Mark will deal with it in the morning. 

For now, he crawls under the covers. They smell fresh; Jaehyun must have made the bed when he was out. Jaehyun lies beside him, propped up on a pillow so he can watch over Mark with ease when he sleeps. 

Mark is hit with a small pang of sympathy as Jaehyun brushes some hair off his forehead. He must be starving, but he never shows it, face placid and almost indulgent every time Mark brings up new plans. 

But he meant it. His work is almost done. He has a few more ghosts to go, and Jaehyun will receive his payment in full. 

“It won’t be long,” Mark murmurs, “until the work is done. I know you have been waiting.”

Jaehyun strokes his hair, soft and slow. “I don’t mind,” he says earnestly. “The things that taste best are ones that require the most patience. I can wait.” His nails scrape lightly at Mark’s scalp. It lulls him; his eyes droop shut. “Sleep now,” Jaehyun says. “I will watch over you. The only thing you have to fear is me.”

“I don’t fear you,” Mark replies drowsily, and Jaehyun’s responding laughter washes him into sleep. 

Mark lives alone with his demon, but there is something else in the house. A hunger like wanting, born of grief and greed and blood. It lingers in the shadows, lives in the walls; it keeps the house standing, keeps its foundation strong. The roof will hold until the moment Mark’s work is done. There will come a day, soon, that he leaves and does not return. He will kill his last ghost and lie waiting in the carnage, spent and exhausted, for his demon to come find him. Jaehyun will slink through the window, sharp claws and sharper teeth, will go to Mark and wrap him up in his arms and take him away. Tongue to neck. Palm to chest. Teeth to throat. All things unholy. 

It is not love, but Jaehyun hungers for him, and Mark thinks that’s close enough. 

[kjmsupremacist]

be like the love that discovers the sin (lover, be good to me) (jaehyun/mark)

When a child comes of age, they are brought to the temple of the gods and offered up for pleasure. Some are chosen and their lives are blessed. Some die. Some are not chosen at all. Today, it’s Jaehyun’s ceremony.

(working title: Hello, I'm Coming Out As A Certified Jaehyun Fucker)

Characters: Jaehyun, Mark, other members of nct

Genre: oneshot, smut, fantasy au, gods & goddesses

Warnings: major character death, mild violence, religion

Rating: Explicit

Length: 15.4k

Hello! For my longtime readers, I extend a quick and informal apology here for my sudden and long absence. I wanted to keep writing through the hard times, but the times got too hard and I had to divert all my energy to survival instead. Luckily, I survived! I am doing much much better now, and come back to you with a dozen new ideas and some rapid-fire updates. Keep an eye out :) much more to come from me, very soon.

Also, I apologize kind of for the life this work has taken… it was meant to be something short and horny and it is decidedly not short and more than just horny. Um. Oops.

The traditions had faded from popular fashion before Jaehyun was born. Out in the bigger townships, and even the medium-sized settlements, most people turned to other practices of piety years ago. But Jaehyun was born into a tiny village surrounded by acres of nothing, and there, traditions lingered.

It was never strange to him; he knew from the day he was old enough to comprehend something as wild and untouchable as the gods that one day, it would be his turn. When he came of age, he would be washed and dressed and made as perfect as he could be, and then taken to a sacred altar in the moonlight where he would be presented as an offering to the gods.

There was no way to know how the gods might react to each offering. The ideal outcome was a ravishment, but it happened only about half the time. A god would take to the human offering and bestow a coupling upon them. This showed the god’s favor, and if the offered human survived the ceremony, they would be blessed forever by that god. 

Frequently, though, the offering would not survive it. The gods were strong and immortal, and a human body sometimes was too weak to withstand such an encounter. Other times, more than one god would appear, and the offering might be killed in the crossfire. Often, no god would appear at all, the sign of an ordinary life full of ordinary miseries, and nothing more.

Only those who had already undergone the ritual were permitted to attend, so no one knew what exactly to expect going into their own. Every teenager spent every day leading up to their twentieth birthday wondering what their ceremony would be like. Would they be chosen by a god? Which one? How would it feel? What would their life be like if they survived it?

Some were pleased with their match. When Jaehyun asked his friend Johnny what his ceremony was like, Johnny smiled, starry-eyed and dreamy. ���It was like nothing else I’ve ever experienced,” he said. “It hurt. Everywhere, I could feel him everywhere.”

Johnny had been chosen by Yuta, the god of sex and love and beauty. Subsequently, all the boys and girls threw themselves at Johnny day and night ever since his ceremony. Those who survived always bore the mark of their god, and Johnny was undeniably beautiful.

Others found their god somewhat insulting. Ten, whose ceremony had occurred only a year before Jaehyun’s was set, had been chosen by Kun, the god of wisdom and courage. 

“I’m not wise,” Ten spat. “Who needs wisdom?”

“You do have a certain wit,” Taeyong, another one of Yuta’s picks, wheedled. “Maybe that’s what it’s for.”

“Maybe he was so exasperated with your complete lack of wisdom he couldn’t stand to pass up the opportunity to put a little wisdom in you,” Doyoung suggested drily. 

“I suppose that’s why you weren’t chosen at all, then?” Ten snapped. “You were already perfect?”

“Stop it,” Jaehyun complained softly before Doyoung could retaliate, and they did. 

Jaehyun was the only child born in his year, so his ceremony would be the only one before a long stretch of quiet months. Usually, only certain religious officials and maybe the friends or partners of the offering would attend a ceremony, the rest of their loved ones choosing to spend the time preparing for their return, drawing up hot baths and making a soft bed; the rest of the village only faintly interested in hearing of the results. But because Jaehyun’s ritual would be the last until the new year, he had a feeling it would be a lot less intimate. 

He tried not to think about it much. Wondering wouldn’t change his fate. He knew this. He was born a certain way, raised a certain way, and grew into the person he was now. Fretting over who might choose him, if any would at all, wasn’t going to make a change at so late an hour. Neither would praying, though he did this anyway to appease his parents.

But just because Jaehyun didn’t want to spend his time speculating didn’t mean no one else did. Everyone seemed to have an opinion. Many seemed to think Jaehyun would also be chosen by Yuta, for his good looks and his love of pretty things. Others thought it might be Donghyuck, the god of the sun, his warmth drawn to Jaehyun’s cold beauty, or else Taeil, the god of the moon, for Jaehyun’s delicate spirit. Jaehyun would nod at each suggestion, would say, “Perhaps, maybe,” but he didn’t think any of them were right. He couldn’t imagine the touch of those gods, so powerful and strange. 

“Who do you think it will be?” people would always ask when they were finished spouting their own theories.

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun would reply, though he did have a faint inkling. “I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

Mostly, Jaehyun tried to keep his mind occupied. He read his books, practiced his music. He went for walks in the woods nearby, collected flowers and herbs to press the color out of for paints. He found himself fretting so quietly he hardly even noticed it, except for when the world was hushed and still around him and his hands and mind weren’t busy. Like so many before him, Jaehyun wanted so badly to be chosen by a god, to be proven worthy. Like so many before him, he’d spent his whole life wondering if he was good enough. Like so many before him, he was afraid to die.

But the days marched forward, and soon his birthday arrived, swift and merciless as the gods waiting for him. He woke to weak winter light and his mother hovering in the doorway, one hand holding the doorknob, the other resting almost absently over her heart. A strange sort of panic reared in his stomach.

“Happy birthday,” she said quietly when she saw his eyes were open. “Come get something to eat.”

Jaehyun did not want to eat. He wanted to curl into a ball under his blankets and cling to his childhood and never enter the holy house with their stark stone floors and sacrificial altars. He wanted to walk into the woods and never return. Whatever glory he might win from a successful ceremony was not worth this kind of fear, the kind that pressed at his throat and made it hard for him to breathe.

But that was not the way of things. Jaehyun was born into a tiny village surrounded by acres of nothing, and where tradition lingered, it doled out demands. 

So Jaehyun rose, made his bed, and followed his mother into their kitchen. He ate his breakfast quietly, broth with a baby chicken stuffed with rice, something that would stick with him for the rest of the day and give him strength. When he was finished, his mother took his bowl, wordless, and passed him off to his father to help him get dressed. 

It wouldn’t matter, anyway; when Jaehyun went to the temple of the gods this afternoon, he would be stripped and bathed in the finest hot spring water, prepped and primped and presented to the gods the same way the gods presented him to the world: bare and shaking. 

Still, tradition doled out demands, and one was for respect. Jaehyun would dress in his finest things and present himself first to the priests and the shamans with humility and deference. He would be clean and pious and he would go quiet and willing. 

His friends had gathered outside his house by the time his parents had deemed him acceptable. The sun was high in the sky. No one spoke; Johnny smoothed a piece of his hair and Taeyong took his hand. Ten ran his fingers down Jaehyun’s back. Doyoung nodded once and turned to lead them down the road and into the village. The older boys knew what was waiting for him, and they would guide him to it as gently as they could.

“Jaehyun!” A voice, high and shaking still with youth. Jaehyun turned; it was Jungwoo, one year younger than him and big eyes round with worry. He would stay home today, as would all the other children. Another one of tradition’s demands. No one under the age of twenty would step foot into the village today.

Jungwoo brushed past the boys and wrapped his arms around Jaehyun’s middle, crushing his clothes between their bodies as he tilted forward into an embrace. Jaehyun let him, closing his eyes.

“I will see you tomorrow,” Jungwoo said as he pulled away. His face was serious. He said it like a command. Without waiting for a response, he turned and ran, fleeing back into his house.

Jaehyun smoothed the wrinkles the younger boy had left behind, and resumed his walk to the temple. The other boys still said nothing, but Jaehyun could hear them breathe, the quick pattern of fear, in-out, in-out. 

No one else was in the streets; even the market was quiet and empty. It was always like this on ceremony days, but Jaehyun had never been out to experience it. The silence pressed in on him from all sides, and though he could see no one but his friends and his parents, he could feel eyes watching him from every window.

A priestess was waiting for him at the doors of the temple. His friends fell away, and his parents followed him up the steps. The family bowed to the priestess, and then Jaehyun’s mother spoke.

“I present my only child, Jung Jaehyun, on his twentieth birthday, as an offering to the gods. May one of them be pleased.”

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” the priestess replied, voice smooth and gentle. She held out a soft hand to Jaehyun; Jaehyun took it. “As ever, his fate is with the gods.”

Though Jaehyun did not turn to watch, he could feel his parents retreating behind him as the priestess led him inside the cool dark of the temple. They would return home, he knew. They would not attend his ceremony; most parents did not, unable and unwilling to watch their child as they were taken and claimed; or worse, killed; or worse even still, ignored. His mother would cook far too much food and his father would work with his hands, likely splitting wood in the backyard, and both of them would try not to think of blood.

They would think of it anyway.

“Come, child,” the priestess called, and Jaehyun realized he was falling behind. “We have much to do to prepare for your meeting with the gods.”

Jaehyun was led past the altar. Even now, with the afternoon sun still shining in through the windows, the whiteness of the marble was nearly blinding in its brightness. It seemed to throw the rest of the room into shadow for its splendor, rich and pure and clean in comparison to the dusty wood and stone. Jaehyun’s eyes stuck to it, hungry for even a glimpse of the future, but it revealed nothing. He was pulled into a back room and he saw no more. The priestess led him through a maze of hallways and down stairs until he could smell the heat and sulfur of the springs.

She passed him off to a team of older priests waiting in an auxiliary chamber. They pulled his clothes off with delicate fingers, wordless and practiced. Jaehyun stood still and obedient, trying not to flinch in embarrassment as the last of his garments was removed and he was left naked in the center of the room. He did not have to stand long; they brought him into another room and there was a steaming pool of spring water. They helped Jaehyun up to the ledge and let him slip into it. 

Jaehyun sank down, grateful for the warmth and the cover of the milky water, but the hands followed. They scrubbed him clean, not too painfully, but enough to leave his skin raw and stinging. They washed his hair, and then cut it, removing unruly pieces until it lay neat around his head.

The priests brought him from the spring to yet another room, wrapped him in soft cloths and patted him dry, then lay him out and rubbed earthy-scented oils into his skin. Jaehyun could pick out some of them—lavender, bergamot, cedar, sage. Others were unfamiliar, the smell coiling in his nostrils and lingering there. 

Hours had passed. Jaehyun could only assume the sun was already setting. It was winter, after all, the days short and dim. As the last of the oil was smoothed into his elbows, his knees, his heels, the air seemed to change. It felt as though the world was holding its breath.

Presently, the same priestess who had greeted him reappeared in the doorway holding a simple white robe. “So you do not shiver all the way up to the altar,” she explained softly when Jaehyun gave her a strange look. “It is time.”

She helped Jaehyun into the robe. He bowed to the priests that had prepared him, and then followed her down the passageway, back up the stairs, and out into the main hall where the altar waited.

Spectators had already gathered. Jaehyun could hardly see them; candles illuminated the altar and left the rest of the room in murky darkness, but he could feel the press of the bodies, could hear the muffled rustling. It was as he had predicted. Many people had come to witness his ceremony, many people he did not know, eager for the chance to see the gods one last time before the long year ahead. The High Priest was the only one whose face Jaehyun could make out, and he let his feet take him to the outstretched hand.

The High Priest took off his robe for him, then stepped aside and gestured for Jaehyun to climb up the altar. Jaehyun’s legs shook as he ascended the few short steps, padding to the center and turning to face forward before lowering himself to his knees and ducking his head, his hands resting on the tops of his thighs. He cast a furtive look around himself. There was nothing to cushion his body, only cold white marble. He saw a few vials of what he presumed to be oils for lubrication sitting off to one side. There was that, at least.

“Jung Jaehyun has reached his twentieth birthday. He is now presented to the gods as an offering.” The High Priest’s voice seemed to bounce off the walls, the echoes ringing in Jaehyun’s ears. “May the gods know our gratitude. May he please them.”

“May he please them.” The murmur rose from the crowd, something learned and secret. Jaehyun tried not to shiver, but he could not help the tremors that ran through his body.

There was silence. It had been that way all day, a stillness, an anticipation. But now the silence seemed to be alive—malicious, almost, huge and terrible.

And then—a flash of light so bright Jaehyun’s eyes watered, and with it, the smell of drying paper, and a warm hand on Jaehyun’s cheek. Jaehyun blinked the tears of shock away as terror washed through him, and dared to look up.

The eyes that looked back at him were wide and intelligent, brown like his own. The cheekbones, sharp even in their boyishness. The lips, soft and sweet as they moved in the shape of Jaehyun’s name. This was not a god any of Jaehyun’s friends had mentioned. 

But it was a god Jaehyun knew.

“Yes,” the god whispered. “You know me. Your hands know my touch. Jaehyun.”

Relief ran through Jaehyun’s body, abating the fear at least momentarily. He held himself taut, but the god was right. He knew this touch, had known it his whole life. He had felt these hands guiding him as he worked, as he played his instruments, as he sang, as he drew. Of course. It could be no other.

“Jung Jaehyun.” The god raised his voice for the whole temple to hear. “I, Mark, god of culture and the arts, claim you.”

And then—then, Jaehyun was being kissed, sweetly and fiercely, and he could hold himself up no longer. He sagged into the god’s arms, his relief making him weak. But Mark’s arms were strong, and he held him easily, tipping him back as he licked into Jaehyun’s mouth. Staking a claim, just as he said. 

Jaehyun felt his back hit the cold stone of the floor and gasped. It broke the kiss, and Jaehyun’s eyes flew open, worried he had offended Mark. But Mark was only looking back with an intent sort of curiosity. His hand was still on Jaehyun’s cheek. He was naked, too, Jaehyun realized belatedly. He didn’t know why he was surprised. Everyone knew why Mark had come, what he was here to do.

Mark nudged Jaehyun’s legs open, and Jaehyun let them fall apart. He couldn’t look away from Mark’s face, the beautiful line of his jaw, the way a strand of hair fell into his forehead, the way his eyes almost seemed to glow. There was power in him, certainly, but it hummed soft under the surface. Still, terror clutched at Jaehyun’s chest. Just because this god’s strength was not so overt did not mean there was nothing to fear. He imagined Mark’s hands crushing the bones of his wrists. He could grind Jaehyun to dust between his palms if he wanted, and Jaehyun would not be able to stop him. Jaehyun noted with some kind of dull surprise that while this thought conjured alarm, it also conjured something else—something sweeter and darker, something that burned in the pit of his belly. He felt his ears go red, the heat of it seeming to pulse through him.

Mark’s lips found Jaehyun’s chest, his stomach. He stroked Jaehyun’s cheek with his thumb; Jaehyun wasn’t even sure he was quite aware of the movement, but found it comforting nonetheless. Though he could still feel all the eyes raking over their bodies, a mixture of awe and harsh scrutiny, it was Mark’s thumb moving across his cheek that instilled an air of intimacy. Yes, the village watched, as did the other gods, Jaehyun was sure, out of sight. But the circle of light contained only Mark and Jaehyun, a god and the mortal he had chosen, and it was for them alone. 

One of the vials had found its way into Mark’s hand. Maybe he had summoned it; Jaehyun wasn’t sure. Mark sat back on his heels, eyes so focused, dark eyelashes casting shadows over his perfect cheeks. Jaehyun chased his touch as Mark pulled the hand from his face, and Mark blinked up at him, surprise and something Jaehyun had to categorize as amusement flickering behind his eyes. There was so much in the way of it, though—Jaehyun barely saw a glimpse before Mark’s face became wholly inscrutable again.  

Mark regarded him, placid, as he slicked up a finger. “It will hurt,” he said quietly. Not an apology. Not even a warning, really, just a statement. Jaehyun nodded mutely. “You know, of course.” 

Jaehyun knew. He had been told it would, not just by Johnny. It was a sacrifice, giving up his body for the gods. Jaehyun had never thought much of it beyond flat acceptance, had never been particularly pious, but now—now, he found he wanted it, hoped it would hurt, just so he could withstand it, just so he could show his devotion. 

Mark pressed a finger against his entrance, sinking in slowly. Jaehyun gasped; he scrabbled weakly against the marble without meaning to, instinct telling him to escape the discomfort. But Mark held him down at the hips, and Jaehyun’s feeble attempts to writhe away were entirely fruitless. Mark did not apologize and he did not stop. The terror lunged up Jaehyun’s throat in a great wave, his breath coming shallow and fast. 

“Please,” he choked out. “Please, I c-can’t—”

“Shh,” Mark whispered. To his credit, he slowed nearly to a stop, eyes flicking up to Jaehyun’s face. “It won’t hurt for long. Be patient. It will help if you relax.”

Jaehyun shook, squeezing his eyes closed and trying to forget that there were dozens of people watching. What would happen if he couldn’t take even one finger? Would Mark proceed anyway, tear him open, leave him raw and bleeding and broken? Or would he lose interest, grow impatient, and kill Jaehyun in his frustration? Shame welled up in Jaehyun’s belly, and he realized what he feared more was not his own death, but Mark’s disappointment. 

He fought to control his breath, drawing an exhale in as deep as he could and forcing himself to expel the air slowly. He had been chosen by a god. Now he would show everyone—himself included—why he had been chosen. Another breath, longer and steadier than the last, again and again until his heart rate had slowed and the terror no longer clawed at the back of his throat.

“Good,” Mark murmured, and Jaehyun’s next exhale came out with some of his voice attached. “That’s it, just a little more.”

Jaehyun blinked his eyes open and realized his vision was blurry with unshed tears. He brought a hand to his face and swiped them away so he could see. Mark was still bent over him, eyebrows creased in focus. At last, Jaehyun felt the junction between one finger and the next against his skin. Mark pet down his side, palms so soft, touch light and soothing. Jaehyun settled against the marble as the pain ebbed, turning from a sharp burning to a softer sort of ache. 

Mark moved his finger and the pain came back. Jaehyun grit his teeth, forgetting the lesson he had just learned. The panic returned, too; if Jaehyun could not take even one finger, how was he supposed to take anything else? What if it did kill him? 

“Relax,” Mark hissed out, grip solidifying on Jaehyun’s hip again. Jaehyun whimpered, too caught in his fear to listen, trying to pull away. “Jaehyun.” He heard his name and stilled, panting softly.

“Sorry,” he gasped, struggling to focus on Mark’s face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I—I’m trying.”

“I know,” Mark said. There was no anger there; instead, something rich and mysterious and unknown to Jaehyun. Mark pulled his finger out and then worked it back in again, and Jaehyun forced his terror down and willed his tears away and waited. It won’t hurt for long. He knew pleasure would come next, but it seemed impossible. All he had was a stinging ache and a foreign sort of sensation along with it, and the dregs of terror still . He didn’t know how pleasure could be made from that.

Steadily, though, the pain dulled, and Mark was able to move his finger faster, meeting less resistance as the slick of the oil spread inside Jaehyun. Quiet wet noises rose up from between Jaehyun’s thighs and he remembered again his embarrassment, his audience in the darkened shadows beyond the altar. He imagined the flush of his cheeks, the way the light would catch the sweat beading along his hairline. He couldn’t imagine how the villagers would react. Did they think him pathetic? Wouldn’t gods normally be harsher than this? Was he simply weak? 

Mark squeezed in a second finger beside the first and Jaehyun had to swallow a noise of surprise. The stretch was not as bad as the first, or maybe Jaehyun was just growing used to it. Mark pushed both fingers in, careful still but not too slow. He shouldn’t be. He was here to collect a reward. Jaehyun’s comfort was not important. Another wave of heat coursed through Jaehyun’s body at the thought. Maybe the pleasure was from this—being used for a god’s pleasure. Maybe Jaehyun would catch it, like a cough, or it would catch him, like a hungry flame licking at dry wood. 

And then, Mark curled his fingers inside Jaehyun, and Jaehyun’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh, oh,” he gasped, pain forgotten or else blended so carefully into this new feeling, this desire sweet and hot like poison in his stomach, that he could not tell the difference. Mark stroked over the spot again, humming out a soft noise of satisfaction when Jaehyun let out a quiet moan. 

“There,” Mark whispered, just for Jaehyun to hear. “I told you, patience. You’ll open up for me now, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” Jaehyun managed. He felt his cock twitch against his stomach and realized wetness had gathered at the tip. Mark twisted his wrist, pressing at Jaehyun’s walls, and it hurt, but it also felt good, and now Jaehyun understood. He let his legs fall open wider, silently begging for—what, he didn’t quite know. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to take another finger, but he didn’t care. If he bled, he bled. Tomorrow he could rest. Tomorrow Mark would be gone.

The god seemed to share his impatience. As soon as the swell of Mark’s knuckles no longer caught on Jaehyun’s rim, he pushed a third finger in. He was ready for it this time, mind and body adjusting quick and violent to something new. Jaehyun found he was rolling his hips, trying to meet Mark’s fingers, trying to get him deeper, trying to make Mark give him more. Mark kept a steady pace despite this, and when Jaehyun caught his eye, he thought he saw a satisfied glint there, something self-assured and pleased.

“Good,” Mark repeated softly, and Jaehyun couldn’t help it; he whined as more precome dribbled out onto his stomach.

Now that the pain was behind him and the pleasure had settled over Jaehyun’s body like a heavy blanket, he could almost laugh at how scared he had been. How had he thought he wouldn’t be able to take it? When it felt this good? He let his gaze travel from Mark’s face down his body—the wide shoulders, the sturdy chest, the small waist, all hardened by lean muscle; then lower still, where the shadows obscured what Jaehyun really wanted.

“Please,” he whispered. “I’m ready, please.”

“One more,” Mark muttered, and Jaehyun felt him forcing his pinky in beside the other three. Jaehyun nodded fiercely. One more, he could take one more if it meant he was closer to taking Mark’s cock. Mark curled his fingers with every stroke and the heat built and built inside Jaehyun until it threatened to consume him. Jaehyun realized hazily that through his fear and surprise and now heady pleasure, he hadn’t noticed how close he’d gotten. And now he could feel himself teetering on the edge, but Mark hadn’t even really begun. Would Mark be angry if he came? He had not said he could not. Still, it seemed wrong, for Mark to be the only one doing any work and the only one not getting anything out of it.

Mark must have been able to tell. He leaned forward, hand leaving Jaehyun’s waist. Mark planted his hand on the marble next to Jaehyun’s shoulder, hovering over him. He dipped his head and kissed him, tongue-first and a little messy. And Jaehyun couldn’t help it. “Sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m gonna,” he tried to mumble against Mark’s lips, but it didn’t come out very clearly. It was too late, anyway; he was coming, his body wracked by the waves of pleasure that washed over him, release spattering across his stomach and chest, hot and sticky.

Mark didn’t pull away; instead, he kissed him through his orgasm, teeth snagging on his lower lip, a soft growl rumbling in the back of his throat as Jaehyun gasped and moaned. When Jaehyun collapsed at last, boneless, against the marble, Mark finally broke the kiss, pushing away, sitting back on his heels.

“Now you’re ready,” he said quietly, pulling his fingers out. He gripped Jaehyun’s hips and then lifted him, flipped him over. Jaehyun flailed for a moment before righting himself, palms slapping against the cold stone just in time to prevent his forehead from cracking against it instead. Mark pressed a hand in between his shoulderblades, pushing him down while his other hand stayed fixed on his hip, forcing Jaehyun to rest his cheek on the altar and arch back, to expose himself to Mark.

Jaehyun realized now how quiet the room had become. Before, there was faint rustling from the onlookers, whispers passed amongst the crowd. It had faded into the background of his mind, but now there was absolute silence. Jaehyun almost felt compelled to hold his breath in order to not disturb it. 

He wished he had held his breath. Because one moment all he could hear was the soft noises of Mark preparing himself behind him, and the next, the head of his cock was pressed to Jaehyun’s entrance, and Jaehyun let out an embarrassing moan before he could stop himself, loud and needy. Mark sank in, unperturbed, curling over Jaehyun’s body as he pressed in deeper. Jaehyun could feel the warmth of his body against his back. How smooth his skin, how soft. Jaehyun let his eyes flutter shut as Mark bottomed out, and suddenly, his embarrassment was gone. It wasn’t important, what the spectators might think. They had not been chosen by this god, would not be able to please him the way Jaehyun would. He could feel how hard Mark was inside him, and that was all that mattered. 

Mark did not give him much time to adjust. He drew his hips back and then snapped them forward again. Jaehyun’s cheek bumped against the marble from the force of it. He hardly felt the pain, too sensitive still from his orgasm to feel anything other than the creeping overstimulation. 

Mark leaned closer, dropping to his elbows, arms caging Jaehyun’s head on either side. Jaehyun felt lips against the back of his neck, and he trembled. He knew his only role was to take it, but he wanted to do more than that. He tried to think back to anyone else who might have been chosen by Mark, who might have let something slip about what he liked, what he didn’t like, how to best please him. He realized with a jolt of trepidation that no one in his memory had ever been chosen by Mark. 

A hand in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp; Mark made a fist and pulled Jaehyun’s head back, forcing him to turn his neck until his right ear was against the cold floor of the altar instead of his cheek. Jaehyun could feel the whisper of his breath fanning across his cheek. “Stop worrying,” Mark murmured. “You were made for me, and now you are mine. You’re doing well.”

“Mark,” Jaehyun slurred softly, tears pricking at his eyes. Like so many before him, he’d spent his whole life wondering if he was good enough. Now, here, with Mark rocking inside him, with Mark’s lips against the jumping of his pulse, Mark’s body pressed flush to his body, Mark’s hand twisted in his hair, he was discovering that the answer was yes. 

The slap of skin on skin echoed in the hall. Jaehyun’s whole body felt like an open flame, hot and sparking, but Mark did not stop and Jaehyun did not want him to. Even though Jaehyun was exhausted and already sore, he did not want Mark to stop. You were made for me. Jaehyun couldn’t help but wonder at it. Did he mean it? Was Jaehyun made with Mark in mind, placed into a family that would shape him into something quiet and hardworking, gentle and smart? All for Mark to see, so that this moment could happen? It didn’t seem so ridiculous in the candlelight, the hushed tension of a ritual.

Jaehyun could feel the drag of Mark’s cock inside him, the way he hit that spot that made Jaehyun melt. Maybe he would dissolve in Mark’s hands, spill out down the steps of the altar. He panted quietly, blinking tears out as Mark went faster and faster, whimpering at particularly hard thrusts that might have resulted in Jaehyun’s skull splitting on the marble had it not been for Mark’s hand still in his hair. 

“You can take it.” For once, Mark’s voice sounded a little strained. “Just a little more, you can.” Jaehyun let out something between a sob and a moan, nodding. He could take it. One of Mark’s arms snaked its way around Jaehyun’s waist, bringing them closer still. At this angle, Mark couldn’t thrust anymore, could only grind deep and dirty inside Jaehyun. His hand stroked down Jaehyun’s belly, like he was searching for a bulge there. Jaehyun couldn’t tell if he found one or not, didn’t have much time to think about it before Mark’s hand was around his cock instead, moving in time with the circling of Mark’s hips.

“Oh, fuck,” Jaehyun gasped. He felt so helpless, so pathetic, drooling onto the marble as a god fucked him hard and relentless. His vision was blurry, and he noted faintly it wasn’t just from the tears; his eyes had gone unfocused, and he didn’t know how to refocus them. All he could feel was Mark, Mark in him and on him, Mark’s cock, his hands, his lips, the heat of it, the held breath, the tension, ready to break. 

“C’mon,” Mark gritted out. “With me.”

Jaehyun closed his eyes and gave in, spasming weakly as his cock twitched in Mark’s fist and he was coming again, shooting his release over Mark’s fingers and onto the pristine white marble of the altar beneath him. He sobbed as the feeling overwhelmed him, body no longer quite his own. 

Mark groaned low in his ear, fucking into him nice and deep even as he came, filling Jaehyun with it so quickly he could already feel some of it dripping out with every shallow thrust of Mark’s hips. At last, Mark stilled, breathless above him.

There was complete silence for a moment. And then Mark pulled out, rolling Jaehyun over onto his back. He kissed him then, sweet and fierce like the first kiss they shared not an hour before. Had it really only been that long? Jaehyun thought he met Mark much before that.

Maybe he had.

He could feel more of Mark’s release leaking out of him, but his body was limp and useless and he couldn’t do anything to stop it or clean it up. He could only lie in the center of the altar, a used offering, as Mark pressed another kiss to his lips, softer this time, almost gentle. 

“I will visit you again,” Mark whispered, and Jaehyun tried to nod, but his head was too heavy.

When he opened his eyes again, the altar was gone. He was resting instead on a table in a stuffy stone room filled with the smell of sulfur. He looked down at his body and saw that it was clean. A few priests shuffled past him, carrying folded clothing—his, from earlier that day.

“You’re awake,” one of the priests said softly. “We will dress you and escort you home.”

“Congratulations,” another one added, “on a successful ceremony. The gods are pleased.”

“The gods are pleased,” Jaehyun murmured dizzily, nodding. He let them dress him, sitting up and staring vacantly at the wall. He had been cleaned thoroughly, he could feel it, and oils had been massaged into his skin once more. Still, he ached, inside and outside and in his heart, too. 

The priests brought him back up to the ground floor. The room had been cleared, the candles on the walls relit, the altar cleaned. No trace, no evidence of the ceremony remained. 

Jaehyun was brought outside. It was dark, the sun already below the horizon, the sky tinged only very faintly a burnt orange. Jaehyun walked with the priests, silent, keeping his head bowed so he would not trip.

His parents were already at the door when they arrived. Someone must have told them, or else they seemed to sense it had been long enough. Their relief was painfully clear on their faces as they thanked the priests for their care—relief that their only child, their son, their only chance, was viable after all.

“He did very well,” the High Priest said, bowing to Jaehyun’s mother. “You raised a good son. The gods are pleased. He will be blessed.”

“Thank the gods,” his mother replied, mostly to herself. His father bid the priests farewell, and his parents ushered him inside.

It wasn’t all the gods his mother should thank, though Jaehyun didn’t tell her this. It was just one—one, for guiding his hand and inspiring him and keeping him gentle. Molding him into someone curious and bright, watching over him his whole life, and then coming to take responsibility for it when it was time, to say see, the beautiful thing I have created? 

His mother fed him chicken stock and then shooed him off to bed. “Get plenty of rest,” she said, kissing his forehead. She hadn’t done that in years. Jaehyun blinked after her. “We’re so proud of you.”

Jaehyun nodded, happy to crawl into bed and sleep.

- - -

Occasionally, those who survive their ceremonies were visited by their god, if they were particularly pious. Some gods were busier, or else just had a wide selection. Jaehyun knew Yuta came to Johnny and Taeyong sometimes, still, but it was rare.

Jaehyun wasn’t sure what to expect. He wasn’t sure if he was expecting anything when he fell asleep, too exhausted to even consider it. Mark had said he would visit him again, but he hadn’t said when. 

Jaehyun woke to warm afternoon sunlight, a quiet house, and a god sitting on the edge of his bed.

He swallowed a scream, scrambling to sit up, making to slide off his bed and onto the floor maybe, to crumble to his knees at Mark’s feet.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Rest,” Mark said softly. “I’m sure you’re very tired.”

“But I—but you—” Jaehyun couldn’t fight him on it, but still, it felt wrong. He leaned back against his headboard, disquieted.

“Please, it’s alright.” Mark waved it away. “I don’t—I don’t want you groveling at my feet. Not like that.”

The power still hummed under his skin, but Jaehyun didn’t find it as frightening anymore. “Why,” he began slowly. “Why have you come to see me, then?”

“If not for groveling, you mean?” Something wry had entered Mark’s tone, and Jaehyun flinched, fearing offense. But Mark didn’t seem offended, just tired. “You… must know that I’ve never come to claim an offering before.”

Jaehyun blinked. He knew no one recently had seen Mark’s favor, but... “Never?” he asked. “Not once?”

Mark shook his head. “I am not like Yuta. I am not the god of love. I am not like Donghyuck or Taeil, whose domains are whimsical, whose routines are easy and ingrained. My domain is constantly changing. I have work, and lots of it. I do not have time for whimsy, for dalliances, the way many of the other gods do.”

“Then,” Jaehyun whispered. His throat felt dry. “Why me?”

Mark caught his gaze and held it. “My fellow gods are constantly seeking amusement,” he said. “I suppose I am too, in my way. A few of them got together, began plotting. They helped make you, and they made you impossible for me to ignore. They brought you into the world and knew I would have no choice but to watch over you, to steady your hand, to make you mine, over and over again, every day in secret until the day I would no longer be able to hide it.”

Something cold washed over Jaehyun. Mark had not wanted this. He had been forced, by fate and by the other gods, cornered and made to carry out a duty. Jaehyun was not special. He was an elaborate prank, and nothing more. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, casting his gaze down at his lap.

“No,” Mark said. Jaehyun didn’t feel the bed dip, but suddenly Mark was right next to him, one hand on his cheek. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “You—you are a miracle, and I do not regret anything.”

“But you didn’t want this,” Jaehyun said.

“At first, no,” Mark admitted. “But—do you know how long I have been alive?” Jaehyun nodded tentatively; of course he knew. The gods had been alive since the beginning of time. “You know, but you don’t understand. I had found a routine. I had a method, I had my work, and I thought I was happy. I thought that was it. I am one of the most successful out of all of us. I hold one of the largest, most well-kept domains of all the gods. I am younger than most of them, too, started when I was hardly more than a child myself. I thought I knew everything.

“But in all my time, in all my diligence and all my care, I had forgotten those I had dedicated myself to. And then there was you.” Mark pulled back, hand falling from Jaehyun’s cheek to his knee. “The others were right, though I’m not sure they meant to be. How can I be the heart of humanity when I never speak with humanity?”

“I am not all of humanity,” Jaehyun mumbled.

“No,” Mark agreed, “but you’re a start.” He tipped his head to one side. “There is a lot I don’t know. I’m hoping maybe you can teach me.”

Jaehyun nodded, somewhat placated. Still, a question scratched at the back of his brain. “Would—forgive me, but would you still have done it, if I had been someone else? If you’d had this realization earlier, if I’d turned out differently?” he asked. Maybe he was begging. Was it really all for me, only for me? Or was I simply a convenient choice? Please. Please tell me I mean something.

Mark was silent for a moment, regarding him. When he finally spoke, his voice was rich with an emotion Jaehyun did not know how to name, but one he recognized all the same. “You could not have been anybody else,” he said. “It could not have been anybody but you.”

“Oh.” Jaehyun wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but the response nearly knocked him flat on his back. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do now, knowing a god had made him and claimed him so thoroughly?

Mark leaned close, pressing a kiss to Jaehyun’s lips. Jaehyun kissed back through his surprise, eyes drooping shut. 

“Sleep now,” Mark said. “You still haven’t healed. I will visit you again.”

“Wait—” Jaehyun snapped his eyes open as Mark pulled away.

But Mark was already gone.

- - -

Jaehyun said nothing of this encounter, beyond that it had occurred, to his family. What was he meant to say? Of course he belonged to the gods, they all did. How could he explain he meant it differently without sounding heretical? 

“Has Mark come to visit you?” Taeyong prodded one afternoon.

“Once,” Jaehyun replied quietly. “A few days ago. He said he would return. I don’t know when.”

“Yuta never promises a return,” Taeyong says, nudging Jaehyun with his shoulder. “I guess all gods are different.”

“I guess,” Jaehyun agreed.

Mark stayed away for a week. Once Jaehyun’s parents were convinced he had recovered, they felt comfortable leaving him home alone, and planned to help a nearby family with some household tasks—likely in exchange for food or supplies, though Jaehyun didn’t know the details of it. All he knew was that he was left to watch the house in their stead, to keep it tidy and safe while they were out. Jaehyun cleaned, fed the chickens, and then retired to his room to read.

One moment Mark was not there, and the next he was. Jaehyun looked up and saw him in the doorway and dropped his book on the floor. 

“I scared you,” Mark said. “I’m sorry.”

“Startled me,” Jaehyun corrected, bending to pick up his book and lay it down on the table beside his bed. “I was hoping you might come.”

“Did you miss me?” Mark padded closer to where Jaehyun stood, though he stayed out of arm’s reach. There was something almost coy about the way he said it.

“Yes,” Jaehyun replied truthfully. 

“I’ll visit more often,” Mark said.

“I thought you were busy,” Jaehyun said.

“Much of my time these last twenty years, I spent watching over you,” Mark replied. “Why should it be any different now?”

“Oh.” Again, Jaehyun found himself speechless. He didn’t know how to navigate this. Mark was a god, after all, but he seemed so familiar, so close. Jaehyun almost wanted to drop formalities with him. And he presented so young; he looked like he could be Jaehyun’s age. His appearance seemed to be in direct conflict with his essence, with what Jaehyun knew he was. He did not know how to balance the two. 

“Would you like it,” Mark asked, “if I visited more often?”

Jaehyun swallowed. “Yes,” he said. “I would like it very much.”

Mark smiled then, and Jaehyun realized it was the first time he had ever seen him smile. The joy lit up his eyes, his cheeks; Jaehyun’s hands twitched at his sides. He wanted to take his face and kiss him, he wanted to pull him down into bed with him, he wanted Mark to fuck him again. But he also wanted to cook for him, to pick flowers for him, to bring him tea while he worked and brush his hair off his forehead while he rested, and—

Mark’s face was inches from his own. His hands ghosted over Jaehyun’s hands, almost touching, but not quite. “Jaehyun,” Mark said, a question hiding inside the word.

“Yes,” Jaehyun replied, and closed his eyes.

Mark kissed him, coaxing Jaehyun’s mouth open with his tongue, pressing up against him, wrapping an arm around Jaehyun’s waist and bracing it on the small of his back. This was different from the kisses they had shared in the house of the gods. Mark had had such a severe air about him then, and now Jaehyun knew why. He had been performing for the priests, for the other villagers. But here in Jaehyun’s bedroom, he didn’t have to. Mark kissed him and kissed him until they were messy with spit, until Jaehyun’s lips throbbed and his head spun, until Jaehyun was panting out desperate little noises of want.

Mark guided Jaehyun to his bed with hands on his hips, shuffling them along until the backs of Jaehyun’s knees hit the mattress and he was falling onto it. His head hit the cushion of a pillow with a soft whump, and Mark nearly crashed down on top of him, limbs tangling as he pitched forward. 

“The house,” Jaehyun mumbled belatedly. “I’m supposed to be watching the house.”

“It’s under my protection,” Mark murmured. “I promise.” He kissed Jaehyun again, quick and chaste, then pulled back to work on his shirt, undoing the lacing in the front. Clumsily, Jaehyun hastened to do the same with his own—first the shirt, then his pants and stockings, and last his undergarments. Mark dropped his things on the floor, so Jaehyun did too.

“You’re beautiful,” Mark said quietly, tracing a finger down the center of Jaehyun’s torso, stopping just above his navel. He tilted his head. “I hurt you last time.”

“It was my first time,” Jaehyun defended.

“You bled.” Mark’s brows were furrowed. Jaehyun didn’t even know this, had been out cold throughout the cleaning process. Had he bled? Perhaps that would explain some of the soreness.

“It was my first time,” Jaehyun repeated. “And I don’t mind.”

“I’ll try not to damage you this time,” Mark said anyway. 

Jaehyun blinked, watching as Mark sat back and searched the pockets of his discarded pants for something. He just said he wouldn’t mind it. He was here for Mark’s pleasure, after all; whether he was damaged or not in the process didn’t matter. Unless—he studied Mark’s face, wondering. Perhaps it wasn’t for Jaehyun’s sake that Mark would try not to damage him. Perhaps it was because Mark did not want to.

It was like a revelation. Jaehyun watched as Mark produced a vial of oil, as he drizzled it onto his fingers, making them slick. He’d always imagined the gods to be rough and ruthless, with no regard for or perhaps no understanding of how delicate humans might be, how slenderly protected their lives were. How could they? They were immortal and a human life was far too insignificant for any of them to even try to comprehend.

Mark nudged Jaehyun’s legs open with one of his knees, pausing to place a kiss to the tender flesh there between the warm press of Jaehyun’s inner thighs. He resettled on his heels, then pushed a finger inside, and Jaehyun nearly lost his train of thought. It hurt still, much like last time. But Mark was not rough or ruthless. He pushed in slowly. Jaehyun panted out harsh breaths, stilling his limbs, clenching his hands to fists and trying to force himself to relax. There was no reason to try and escape this, even if he could. Here was a god who was trying to understand. Here was a god who was gentle.

And Mark was gentle. He bent over Jaehyun’s body and distracted him with kisses while he waited for Jaehyun to adjust. Jaehyun could feel the wet heat of Mark’s mouth against his skin, the scrape of his teeth. He pushed in as slow as he could and mouthed over the point of Jaehyun’s jaw, his free hand running down Jaehyun’s arm until he found his hand. He intertwined their fingers and squeezed.

One finger became two and quickly three, but Mark was true to his promise. It hardly hurt at all. It was probably a combination of things—less pressure, more practice. All Jaehyun knew was that everything felt good. He reached out for Mark, one hand finding the back of his neck, the other finding his chest. He lay his palm flat against the smooth planes of muscle there, the sharp jut of his collarbone. He let his thumb roll over one of Mark’s nipples, and Mark moaned into his mouth, low and guttural and real.

Jaehyun knew it then, but he said nothing.

At last, Mark decided Jaehyun was ready. He pulled his fingers out and rearranged himself between Jaehyun’s legs. For some reason, Jaehyun thought Mark would flip him over again, like he had before. But this was different. That had been for claiming, a show of power. This was for something else, something Jaehyun knew but could not say.

Mark lined himself up, one hand keeping Jaehyun spread, feeding the tip of his cock into Jaehyun’s hole, then pushed in slow. The glide was easy, his meticulous preparations paying off instantly. Jaehyun could feel the wetness of it, the amount of oil slick and strange. Mark’s mouth moved silently, jaw dropped wide and pink tongue just barely visible in the shadows of his mouth.

“Mark,” Jaehyun mumbled softly, reaching out and running his thumb across the top of one of his thighs, back and forth. Mark hummed, flicking his gaze up to Jaehyun’s face. “Look so good.”

“So do you,” Mark replied, bending over Jaehyun, hiking his legs up higher until Jaehyun could cross his ankles behind Mark’s back. “So good, so perfect.” Before, Mark had been stoic. At the time, Jaehyun had thought perhaps that was how he was—quiet and introspective. Now, he realized Mark had forced himself to remain taciturn and imposing. “So tight, it’s like your body doesn’t want to let me go.” In actuality, Jaehyun was learning, Mark’s mouth ran away from him, mind moving too fast for him to reel it all in.

Mark bottomed out with a harsh exhale, bending down to kiss Jaehyun and practically folding him in half in the process. Jaehyun kissed back messily, gasping in breath when he could manage it, swallowing Mark’s noises. It was strange—Mark felt more and less like a god now. There was something so human about him, the way he moaned, the way sweat made his skin shine, the way his hair fell into his eyes and curled at his neck. Here, this close, Jaehyun could see the little imperfections, the cracks so fine he almost missed them—pores dotting Mark’s face; a mole on his cheek, another on his neck. He could feel them, too—Mark’s lips were slightly chapped; his nails were slightly ragged against Jaehyun’s skin when he cupped Jaehyun’s jaw and his fingers scraped at his scalp against the base of his skull.

At the same time, Mark’s godhood shone through. There was something so perfect about him and his collection of little flaws. He was made with so much intent, each piece of him slipped into place by a careful hand. The flaws all summed up into something beautiful, wonderful, whole. Jaehyun could not say the same for all his own little broken pieces. He could feel the difference between them especially keenly now. It drew a compulsion to worship straight from the center of Jaehyun’s soul, to lay himself at the mercy of something so great, so powerful, so much better than he could ever be.

But wasn’t that what he was doing? Mark drew his hips back and then forwards again, moaning with Jaehyun, whispering yesyesyes against his lips in a jumbled rush, bodies interlinked the way they were made to be. Jaehyun, offering himself to his god and being rewarded in pleasure for his piety. 

“More,” Jaehyun begged. Maybe he was demanding it. “Faster, you can go faster. Can take it.”

“You can take it,” Mark agreed. “You’ll take whatever I give you, right?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun sighed, hiccuping out another moan when Mark did as he’d asked, the noise nearly shocked out of him.

“Greedy,” Mark accused, but there was no real intent behind it. He almost sounded pleased, reveling in Jaehyun’s greed because it was greed for him.

“Yes,” Jaehyun said again anyway, because it really was true. He would always want more of this, and nothing else, always; he had always been Mark’s but now he could be no one else’s. “Yours.”

Mark groaned low, ducking his head and biting kisses into Jaehyun’s neck, laving over the spots with his tongue to soothe the pain as he went. “Mine,” he whispered into Jaehyun’s skin, hips thrusting even faster, harder, then slowing to nearly a stop deep inside him, waiting for both of them to catch their breath before speeding up again. “Mine.”

It was impossible for Jaehyun not to know, but still he said nothing.

Mark fucked him like that, quick and hard and close, then slow and dirty, then fast again, until they were both gasping, until the sun was low in the sky and Jaehyun’s hair and sheets were soaked with sweat, until Jaehyun was crying softly and clinging to Mark and whispering please.

Jaehyun came silently, mouth too busy kissing Mark for anything else. He felt Mark still inside him, felt his body stiffen under his fingers. They both breathed deep and shaking as they came, as the light grew orange and dim. One of Mark’s hands had found one of Jaehyun’s and he clasped it so hard it hurt, but neither of them let go.

At length, Mark pulled out. He got a handkerchief from somewhere and wet it with the water in the glass on Jaehyun’s dresser. He helped clean Jaehyun, holding him while he stripped the bed and laid fresh sheets, then curled beside him as the last of the light faded.

“My parents should be home soon,” Jaehyun said into Mark’s sternum.

Mark ran his hand down Jaehyun’s spine. “Yes,” he hummed. “I should let you go.”

“Will you come back?” Jaehyun asked.

“Yes, of course,” Mark said. 

“When?” Jaehyun demanded.

“Tomorrow,” Mark promised, amused. He kissed Jaehyun's forehead. “You’ll wait for me?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun said. “I’m yours. I’ll always wait for you.”

A pleased noise rumbled in Mark’s chest; Jaehyun could feel it in his skull. “Mine,” Mark agreed.

Jaehyun sat in his room a long while after Mark left, even as it grew dark, even when his parents returned. He ran his fingers over his lips. He could’ve sworn they still throbbed.

“He came to see you again?” his parents asked that night over dinner, half surprise, half awe. “Why?”

“He likes me. I suppose he chose me for a reason,” Jaehyun said. It was not true. Jaehyun knew, but he didn’t say.

- - -

And so the months passed. Mark visited Jaehyun almost every day. Sometimes, it was in the quiet calm of his room. Suddenly, Mark was there behind him, watching him as he painted. Sometimes Mark brought his own work, scrolls to pore over, while Jaehyun sat beside him and read. 

Other times, Mark met him out in the woods and taught him new things about the plants and animal life around them. They spent entire days out between the trees, just the two of them in the warm spring sunlight, fingers and shoulders brushing as they walked side by side. 

Often, though, Mark came to Jaehyun at night, when the rest of the village is sleeping. Jaehyun learned better than anyone that prayer was not meant to be spoken in hushed tones over clasped hands. Prayer was all teeth and tongue and heat, and a thing Jaehyun knew but could not say.

“I will visit you again,” Mark always promised before he left.

“I will wait for you,” Jaehyun replied.

Months turned into years. Most of Jaehyun’s friends had their ceremonies. Most of them survived. Many of them did not receive a coupling. Those who did rarely saw their god. All of them moved on. For everyone else, the ceremony was a milestone, something completed and done. For Jaehyun, it had been a turning point.

Jaehyun knew this, had always known it. But somehow the gravity of it never hit him. If his life was different, what did it matter? 

It came in three blows, the true end of Jaehyun’s childhood, though he did not know it when they struck.

The first came soft and joyous. “I am getting married,” Johnny announced one day as they strolled the market together.

“To who?” Jaehyun asked immediately, blinking at him in curiosity. 

“Ten,” he said simply. “Yuta promised us a child.”

Yuta was the god of sex and love, after all. Johnny said he’d made a deal with the Earth Mother, and would bring them a baby once they were ready. It was an easy thing, and for once Jaehyun felt a small pinprick of jealousy, and of fear. Johnny would be able to follow tradition, to settle down with someone he loved and produce children and still treat with his god. He and Ten would be happy. 

Their marriage was beautiful. Jaehyun was glad for them, even though he knew he would never have anything like that. Johnny and Yuta had gained a sort of easy camaraderie over the years, but their relationship was nothing like Jaehyun and Mark’s; Ten was only visited by Kun on rare occasion, and though they had come to a sort of comfortable understanding, they were not close the way Jaehyun and Mark were close. Jaehyun knew it wouldn’t be fair to whoever he might marry, knew that his devotion to Mark would always overshadow whatever lukewarm affection he might hold for his future spouse, knew his piety went beyond the normal measure. It would not be fair, so he would not marry. It left something hollow in his chest, but he thought of Mark and knew that it would be worth it.

“If you want to marry, you don’t have to worry after me,” Mark told him that night.

Jaehyun flinched. “I do not want to marry,” he said tightly, trying and failing to hide how Mark’s words stung.

Mark knew, of course. “I only meant—if there is a duty you must carry out, I would not stop you.” He pressed a kiss to Jaehyun’s neck. “I would not give you up, either.”

Jaehyun twisted around, catching Mark’s lips with his own, placated. “I think the village can bear one bachelor,” he said. “And who are they to say no to you?”

Mark smiled.

The second came as a creeping sort of unease. In the short intervening years since Jaehyun’s ceremony, the world changed. Suddenly, their tiny village was not surrounded by acres of nothing. A main traveling road was built not far from their lands, and soon, they had visitors from larger towns staying the night on their journeys. They brought novelty and excitement, to be sure, but they also brought a change in the winds.

Many of the new offerings never saw a god. Being selected was never guaranteed, but it had been much more common when Jaehyun was younger. Now, a god came only once every few months, and the village began to grow worried.

At first, they had built large pyres, slaughtering livestock and burning crops and pleading for a return of favor. The gods did not answer. When Jaehyun asked Mark about it, Mark only shook his head.

“They’re all a bit fickle,” he said. “This village saw our blessings for many, many years because this village was interesting. And then, of course, when they made you, they had to keep a close eye on your community to see their little trick unfold. Now that you and I have settled into our roles, the amusement is gone and they turn their eyes elsewhere.”

“They forsake us because they are bored?” Jaehyun demanded. 

“Yes and no,” Mark replied quietly. “I wish I could explain. They will be back, undoubtedly.”

“Likely not fast enough,” Jaehyun muttered. “They already begin to lose faith.”

And it was true, in its way. The travelers were mostly from cities that did not keep the same ceremonial practices. They prayed and lit pyres and preached, and saw the favor of the gods for it. Some travelers said their fortune doubled once they stopped the rituals.

“The world is wider than we have ever known,” they would say. “The gods don’t have enough time to look in on every child that comes of age. It’s bothersome to them, and they would rather receive other kinds of offerings, ones that are more convenient.”

The village elders convened, and it was decided. At the end of that year, there would be no more ceremonies. The altar would be repurposed, the spaces beneath the temple opened to different uses now that the springs did not need to remain so pure. 

“It’s probably for the best,” Taeyong said, worrying his lip between his teeth. 

“The ceremonies took too many of us,” Doyoung added. This at least was true—so many children had been lost to the gods’ apathy and carelessness. At least there would be one less thing for parents to fear. 

And so the end of the year came, and the altar was cleaned and the walls between the rooms near the springs taken down, and the village moved on. Jaehyun tried to move with it. It was strange, the change. It came so slowly to little villages like theirs that it felt violent when it finally arrived. Or maybe it was the first change to come that Jaehyun was old enough to care about. Either way, it left some anxiety trapped in Jaehyun’s lungs.

The third came sudden and cold, like a winter storm that arrives overnight and leaves snow packed a meter high against your door. 

“Jaehyun,” Jaehyun’s mother said one day at dinner. “We’re wondering when you might consider marrying.”

Jaehyun nearly dropped the bowl he was carrying to the door. “Marry?”

“You’re a man now,” his father said. “Your mother and I wish to see you settled before our time is up.”

“But I—”

“The god,” his mother said quietly. “Your god. Has he demanded you not to take a partner?”

“No,” Jaehyun said, perhaps more sharply than he had intended. “He wouldn’t.”

“Then why do you hesitate, my dear?” his mother asked.

Jaehyun hesitated. “There is no one else for me,” he said quietly after many long moments. “And—no one else for him.”

Two sharp inhales—Jaehyun did not watch for the expressions on their faces. It was a borderline blasphemous thing to say, except Jaehyun knew it was true.

“If he would take you as his—but gods never do. Not with humans,” Jaehyun’s father said, half to himself.

“Think on it,” his mother said. A dismissal.

Jaehyun wanted to say, I have already thought on it, and I have made my choice! Jaehyun wanted to say, if I am a man now, why are you sending me to bed like a child? Jaehyun wanted to say, a god has chosen me. A beautiful god, a kind god, a gentle god. Isn’t that enough?

He did not say any of these things. He set his bowl down on the counter, nodding. “I will think on it,” he said. 

His room was cold and dark and empty. He had not prayed in a long time, but tonight he lit a candle and knelt by his bed. 

“Mark,” he whispered. “Please.”

The air was still, but Jaehyun felt the difference before he even opened his eyes. 

Mark’s hand was on his hair before Jaehyun’s eyes had even found him. “I thought you were in danger,” he said softly.

“Sorry,” Jaehyun said immediately. “I had hoped to speak with you.”

Mark pulled Jaehyun up to his bed and sat down beside him. “What is it?”

“They want me to marry.” Jaehyun looked at Mark.

They were both quiet for a few long moments, hands barely touching on top of Jaehyun’s blankets, god looking at mortal, mortal looking at god. 

“I don’t mind,” Mark said, “truly, I don’t. As long as I can still see you. Your—your spouse, they would understand.”

“I don’t care if they would understand,” Jaehyun spat. “I don’t care, I don’t want it. You said it yourself, I was made for you. And in that way, you are the only one for me, and there can be no one else. I don’t want it.”

Mark blinked. If he commanded me away, Jaehyun thought, to obey tradition and duty, I would do it.

But Mark only nodded. Jaehyun stared. In this light, he seemed older. Gods were ageless, so Jaehyun always assumed Mark would never change. But something had. Mark’s cheeks seemed sharper, his jaw sturdier. Only his eyes remained the same—clear and intelligent. 

“You’re aging your appearance,” Jaehyun accused softly.

“To match you,” Mark whispered. “I had wondered when you would notice.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun breathed. Then—“Why?”

“I want to stay with you,” Mark said simply. “Step by step.”

Jaehyun could ask, he knew. If he would take you as his—

And maybe Mark would. He wasn’t like the other gods. Not to Jaehyun. He’d do it if only Jaehyun asked; Jaehyun wouldn’t even have to get on his knees. Mark never liked groveling. But he would have to fight for it, give things up. Jaehyun didn’t want Mark to give things up for him. It would breed resentment, and over time, it would fester.

“I won’t marry,” Jaehyun muttered.

“They won’t stop,” Mark said. “Now, it’s only your family. The tide of your village has turned. In time, your refusal will become known to everyone here. They will not like it.”

“And? What will they do?” Jaehyun asked. “Put me in chains and march me into the temple to be wed before the gods themselves?”

Mark laughed then, soft and light. “I suppose not,” he agreed. He squeezed Jaehyun’s hand, then kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto the bed properly. “Come here, then,” he said.

Jaehyun followed him, slipping under the offered arm. “So,” he said. “When I pray to you, you can hear me?”

Mark smiled. “If I’m trying to listen. It’s easier for me. Not a lot of people pray directly to the god of art and culture, so your voice was clear.”

“I’m glad you were trying to listen,” Jaehyun said. 

Mark kissed his forehead. “I’d never let anything happen to you,” he said. 

- - -

It would be years before Jaehyun saw that Mark had been right. 

Quickly, other concerns consumed the village. They were hit with waves of illness, with failed crops, with bad weather. Jaehyun’s parents got sick during the first wave, but it took the third to kill them. They weren’t the only ones. By the end of each day, the funeral pyre in the square would have multiple bodies. It was lit every night and restocked every morning. 

“Why is this happening to us?” Jaehyun asked Mark a few nights after he’d burned his parents’ bodies. 

“I told you, the gods have turned their eyes elsewhere,” Mark said. “They are not punishing you. This is what happens when we stop paying attention.”

“What did we do wrong?” Jaehyun demanded. 

“Nothing,” Mark said quietly. “We just can’t be everywhere at once. What did you think was happening in other villages all the years that yours enjoyed our favor? Do you think they deserved it?”

Jaehyun didn’t have a reply. He supposed he hadn’t really thought of it, or assumed it was the same elsewhere. But he realized that was silly. There were plenty of gods and they were plenty powerful, but even so they could not be everywhere at once. 

At length, he said, “If you lose interest so easily and can’t help us when we need it, then why should we worship you?”

Another god might have gotten angry, but Mark only smiled. “Because you all hope you are special,” he said. “And we make miracles.”

“Still!” Jaehyun insisted. “All that suffering.”

“I know,” Mark said quietly. “I wish we had more power. We lost many of us to obscurity and infighting near the beginning.”

“And now you’re losing my village,” Jaehyun said. “I know they grow angry.”

“Then they will be angry,” Mark soothed. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Jaehyun couldn’t help it. “You let my parents die!” he snapped. He knew it wasn’t fair. Mark was not the god of illness, nor was he the god of medicine and science. He had limited power against something like a disease. 

Still, Mark ducked his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I would have saved them if I could. I would save all of them, if I could. But gods, like humans, are never meant to be alone.”

Jaehyun wondered a lot about that. Was Mark lonely? Did he still see his fellow gods? Was Jaehyun tying him to a place where none of his kin were left?

The months passed. Things didn’t get much better, and the people began to grow restless. “We must be doing something wrong,” everyone said. “We have angered the gods, and we need to find out why.”

Jaehyun supposed he could have seen it coming. People, people he didn’t even know that well, began to come up to him and ask after his affairs. They would disguise it as concern for him, as he had recently lost his parents and lived in his house alone. 

“Why don’t you marry?” they would eventually ask. “You’ll be so lonely without a family.”

Jaehyun tensed. “I do not wish to marry,” he replied.

“The god Mark hasn’t forbid you from marrying, has he?” the bolder people pressed.

“No,” Jaehyun admitted reluctantly.

“Then you should,” they said. “Our duty to our community and the gods we serve is to produce children so that we can remain strong. The gods have shown their displeasure to us, and we must all do our part.”

“Mark has not shown any displeasure towards me,” Jaehyun replied evenly.

“If you don’t have children, who will care for you when you are old?” people wheedled.

“Mark never forbade me from marrying, but I know he will not be pleased.” This was true even if Mark wouldn’t say it. Another place for resentment to grow. Another reason why Jaehyun didn’t want it. “Would you lose the favor of one of the last gods that watches over us?”

This tripped them up a bit, but they kept going anyway. “We’ve discontinued the ceremonies and chosen to focus on different ways of showing our devotion, and soon we will get all their grace back tenfold. Even Mark will come to see it’s for the best.”

Jaehyun gave up arguing. He dodged conversations when he went to the market and mostly kept to himself to avoid any more confrontation. His friends still came to see him, but his world shrank. He kept to his father’s old study, painting and reading to pass the time. 

At least there was Mark. He sat with Jaehyun, kept him entertained, tried to keep him happy. And it worked, some of the time. Jaehyun could delude himself, for hours at a time, into believing that this would be fine, that eventually the others would leave him alone and let him live on in peace. He would be able to stay in his parents’ house and live out his life with Mark at his side.

But they both knew that wouldn’t happen. As long as the village continued to suffer, people would always look for someone to blame, and the easiest person to blame was always the person that was different. 

“You could leave,” Mark said quietly. “Pack up and go somewhere else. I’d protect you. You wouldn’t need to worry about any of this. You could be happy.”

“I wouldn’t be happy abandoning my friends, my family home,” Jaehyun replied. “I have to stay.”

Mark gave him a wry smile. “I know,” he said. “It was worth a try.”

And still, years passed this way, tension palpable but still only simmering under the surface. Life went on. Though the waves of sicknesses slowed and lost strength, they still came. Their crops were never as abundant as they had been in Jaehyun’s youth, but there was never a true famine. Still, whenever a child died in the night or a plant yielded no fruit, eyes would follow Jaehyun through the streets.

The night of Jaehyun’s twenty-seventh birthday was cold and dark. The sky was clear but had no moon, and the stars seemed faint against the unrelenting black. Mark had been pulled back to the realm of the gods by more and more work—he said he thought the other gods were sick of the amount of time he spent in the human world. Jaehyun coped with it. He made dinner, washed up, and settled into bed.

It was a creak in the hall that woke him. He held his breath, ears straining. Another creak, and another, and the soft whispering of footsteps getting closer and closer. Jaehyun almost called out, hoping it was Mark, but decided against it. If it was Mark, he would’ve come straight to the bedroom. 

As quietly as he could, Jaehyun slipped out of bed. The floor was cold on his bare feet, but he didn’t want to risk knocking something over when he searched for stockings. He left his bed mussed, and slithered down under it, grateful for the length of the skirt that hid the legs of the frame. 

A few tense moments passed, and then his bedroom door was open. Someone walked up and tossed his blankets around, then whispered, “Not here. Check the study.” They retreated, closing the door behind them. 

As soon as they were gone, Jaehyun dragged himself back out from under the bed and tiptoed to the door, opening it as slowly as he could and taking a peek down the hall. It was dark and there was no sign of the intruders, so he slipped out and headed towards the kitchen, mind racing.

How many were there? Was there a mob waiting for him outside? What was their plan? To kill him in his home, or take him and march him through the streets, throw him on the pyre and plead with the gods? He should have taken Mark’s advice. He should have left months ago. 

But the street outside his kitchen was dark and empty. Jaehyun padded around the corner into the pantry and waited. Maybe they would assume he was out, and give up the search. How had they gotten in? His door was always bolted at night. 

He heard light shuffling and froze, shifting deeper into the pantry. There was some muffled whispering, too quiet for him to understand, and then silence. And then—

“Jung,” someone called. He did not recognize the voice. “We know you’re here. Your bed was still warm, you haven’t fooled anyone but yourself. Come out, we need to talk to you.”

Mark, Jaehyun thought desperately, squeezing his eyes shut. Please help me. Mark!

But Mark didn’t come. The intruder continued, “There’s three of us and only one of you. You can’t skulk about your house all night, we’ll find you eventually. Let’s not waste any more time. We’ve already wasted years.”

The voice was closer now. Jaehyun ducked out of the pantry and away from the kitchen, skirting around the sitting room and towards the hall again. The shadows seemed to shift and flicker in Jaehyun’s peripheral, and every creak made his heart hammer in his chest.

Mark, he tried again.

His mistake was going back into his bedroom. He thought—he didn’t know. He wanted a reprieve from the sneaking, maybe, wanted his back against a wall. But there was only one point of entry, and suddenly it was blocked by three men.

He recognized them vaguely, though he didn’t know their names. “There you are,” one of them said.

Jaehyun stood, muscles tensed to flee. “I’m sorry for my lack of hospitality. You have to admit it’s not a usual hour to entertain guests.”

“That’s alright,” another one of them said. “This isn’t a social call.”

“No?” Jaehyun skirted along the edge of the room, keeping his back to the wall, keeping his eyes on the men. “I thought you said you wanted to talk. So let’s talk.”

“We’re well past talking. I think you know that.” Jaehyun could see a knife in one of the men’s hands. 

“The gods are angry, Jung. And we’ve all done our part to try to please them, to pull our weight for the community. All of us, except you.” At least they had come out of the doorway now. Jaehyun was still barefoot, but maybe he could make a run for it. They were circling, trying to get closer to him. Jaehyun edged toward the door. “Maybe the gods are punishing us because we haven’t done everything we can. Maybe they’re punishing us because of you.”

“The gods aren’t punishing anybody,” Jaehyun said quietly. “They grew bored, that’s all. All we can do is wait for their favor to shift again. This is no way to gain it.”

“Compelling argument,” one of the men said. “Or perhaps you’re saying anything to get away.”

“Would that help?” Jaehyun was so close to the door now. “If I left? I could pack up and leave tonight. You’d never hear from me again.”

“No, I think we all know what the solution should be.” They were getting closer to him. Another step. “We can’t have you bringing your bad luck to other communities. The guilt would follow us.”

Jaehyun tore into a sprint, clipping his shoulder on the doorframe on the way out. “Mark!” he screamed as he sprinted down the hall towards the kitchen. “Mark, help me!”

The men had been poised and ready, and they chased him down with ease. One slammed him into the ground in front of his dining table. Another stood in front of his door. Jaehyun raised his arms to protect his face as a hand holding a knife swung up, and then down—

A flash of light so bright all of them cried out. Jaehyun slumped against the floor as the men screamed and then abruptly fell silent. He could hear the crunch of their bodies as they hit the walls and then crumpled lifeless to the floor. 

“Jaehyun.” Mark’s hands had found his where they were clutching at his abdomen. “Jaehyun?”

“Mark,” Jaehyun breathed. He thought maybe it should hurt, but he could feel nothing, except the chill as the blood cooled on the backs of his fingers, and the ragged hilt of the knife against his palm.

“No,” Mark whispered fiercely. “I’ll bring you back with me, we’ll heal you, we’ll make you immortal. You can stay with me, away from all of this.”

“I don’t think I’ll make it to the realm of the gods,” Jaehyun murmured. “At least not like that.”

Mark pulled Jaehyun’s head into his lap. Jaehyun could feel the warmth of his skin even through his clothes. He could feel the way he shook. Mark curled over him, pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll look for you, then,” he said. “I’m so sorry. You called me for a long time before I came, didn’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jaehyun said, shaking his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark repeated. “I promised—I promised nothing would happen to you.”

“Maybe they’re right,” Jaehyun said faintly. “Maybe it’s for the best. Now your fellow gods will see what their indifference has done.”

“I wish I could kill them all,” Mark said. “Maybe I should’ve. Maybe then none of this would have happened.”

“Mark.” Jaehyun’s vision was blurring; his own voice sounded faint in his ears. “I’m scared.” It welled up in him, a new kind of terror, and with it, a grief so vast Jaehyun thought maybe that alone was enough to kill him.

“I know,” Mark said. He stroked his hair. “It’ll be alright.”

“I,” Jaehyun began, but stopped. 

“What?” Mark whispered. “What is it?”

Jaehyun shook his head. It was something he knew, but could not say. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness sweep him away. The last thing he felt was the hot sting of a god’s tears on his cheek.

- - -

The legend goes like this. The god Mark was punished for meddling too closely in human affairs by confinement to the realm of the gods for five hundred years. His human charge was barred from the land of the dead, and instead forced to roam the earth, a soul without a body. He had no funeral. They left his body to the crows. The village saw the gods’ blessings again, and everyone was satisfied. At the end of the five hundred years, the human was whisked away to the land of the dead, and Mark never saw him again. Though his confinement is over, he never ventures beyond his domain, too sad and too bitter to see anyone.

Legends are always cautionary tales. Here is what happens when you go astray. Here is what happens when you do not listen to your parents. Here is what happens when you disobey the gods. Here is what happens when a god loves you.

Legends are never the truth.

In reality, Jaehyun’s friends snuck out and retrieved his body from the woods after the village had agreed to dump it there. They built him a pyre and set him atop it, let it all burn down to ash and bones, then buried the remains under a huge tree. 

In reality, Mark tried to break his confinement every day. Jaehyun’s soul did float, aimless, a broken piece left amongst the living. He watched his friends die and leave the land of the living, watched their children grow old and follow them. He watched the world change. And still he remained, untethered and alone.

The worst part was the not knowing, he thought. No one had told him what would happen to him. He didn’t know of Mark’s confinement at the time, though he deduced there must be something stopping him from visiting. He didn’t know if there would ever be an end to it.

And so five hundred years passed. Most people forgot the gods, and those who remembered had lost the old practices long before. Jaehyun’s story faded into obscurity with them, and still he lingered. Towns and cities rose from nothing. Soon there were people everywhere, with buildings tall as trees and roads long as rivers. Jaehyun watched the development with a sort of detached interest, but it wouldn’t make a difference for him. He could take no part in it.

And then one day as he wandered through the forest, he met someone he had never seen before but knew all the same. 

“Jaehyun.” The voice deep and gentle. 

The god of death had no name. The land of the dead was ruled by Chenle; he was not the one who brought souls between worlds. Jaehyun hadn’t known what to expect. He’d always been skeptical of the images of dark specters in long black robes and skeletal hands and huge, gleaming scythes, but he could never think of an alternative.

But the god of death looked like a young man, almost human. He had an almost boyish face, with small, round lips and kind, gentle eyes, and mismatched ears, one rounded and one more pointed, that stuck out a little from his head. He didn’t seem like the god of death, but Jaehyun knew it all the same.

“Are you here to take me to the land of the dead?” Jaehyun asked. It had been so long since he had spoken to anyone else. It felt strange to be seen.

“No.” The god said it with a smile. He stretched out his hand. “Come with me. The gods have other plans for you.”

Perplexed, Jaehyun followed him. He would not give up a chance at change, no matter how strange and cryptic. “What, then?” he asked.

The god gave him a look—genuine sympathy. Jaehyun felt himself warming to this deity without meaning to, somehow; his presence was not frightening the way Jaehyun had thought it would be. “When you were killed, the gods got together and decided to confine your soul to this realm, and Mark’s soul to the realm of the gods. Five hundred years, as punishment for becoming far too intertwined. Humans and gods are never meant to see much of one another.

“But something very special happened with you.” The god takes Jaehyun’s hand. “None of us knew it, but you had been made so carefully, with such a specific purpose, that your fate would always have been so tumultuous and tragic. Those who had a hand in making didn’t even realize the heavy sort of destiny they were binding you to, the destiny set out for you long before you were born. You have been touched by the gods, and there cannot be any other place for you but among us. We know that now. And besides, you have both suffered enough.”

“What are you saying?” Jaehyun whispered.

“I’m taking you to Mark,” the god answered simply. “He has missed you.”

“Mark,” Jaehyun managed, his throat suddenly tight. 

They walked through the woods in silence. They seemed to stretch on forever; Jaehyun was sure they were going in circles. But the god of death seemed to be following a path he could not trace. The sky stayed light, though hours must have been passing.

And then, at last, they came upon a simple wooden door. The god of death opened it; beyond was bright light Jaehyun could not see through. The god of death held the door and gestured him through.

“You’re not coming with me?” Jaehyun asked.

“This will take you to Mark’s domain,” the god of death said. “My domain is here, between realms.”

“Thank you,” Jaehyun said. He had questions, but they could be saved until later.

“I’m sorry you had to wait,” the god said softly. “And—Mark likes jasmine tea best.”

Jaehyun was already walking, and turned back to ask what the god meant. But the door closed behind him and disappeared, and the light faded, and Jaehyun realized he was standing in a large kitchen.

The room was modeled after modern civilization. Jaehyun had seen houses like this in his time wandering the earth. There was a gas stove and a kettle. Next to it, a cupboard. Jaehyun opened it and found rows and rows of different kinds of tea.

He set the kettle to boil and picked out the jasmine green. He sent a silent thought of gratitude to the god of death, though he wasn’t sure if he could hear him. He was glad he would not have to go to Mark empty-handed.

At last the tea was brewed. Jaehyun cupped the mug in his hands and padded out of the kitchen. The house was vast, but his feet seemed to know exactly where to take him. He went up a flight of stairs and then all the way down the hall to a shut door. He raised his fist, and knocked.

“What is it?” Jaehyun shook. The voice was achingly familiar, but hardened with anger and grief. “Enter.”

The door swung open and Jaehyun could only stare.

Books and scrolls and canvases were littered about the room, built up in great stacks on and around the desk where a figure sat, hunched over a stack of papers. His hair was still a deep black, thick and shiny. He had glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

He looked up and dropped his pencil.

“I brought you tea,” Jaehyun said, stuttering. “I always wanted—I had always wanted to bring you tea while you worked.”

“Jaehyun.” Mark was on his feet, swift and silent and unsteady. He took the mug from Jaehyun and placed it on top of a book and then swung back around and kissed him.

Jaehyun kissed him back. His legs shook but it didn’t matter because Mark’s arms were already around his body, pulling him close and holding him up. Mark kissed him deep and long and fierce, and it wasn’t until they finally pulled away that Jaehyun realized they were both crying.

“I had thought—“ Mark stumbled over it. “Today was the last day of my confinement, and I had meant to go immediately and pull you up to my domain with my own hands. I thought of you every day.”

“Me too.” Jaehyun wrapped his arms around Mark’s shoulders, still just a little lean, muscle just showing through his shirt. He could feel the warmth of Mark’s skin. Could feel the tremor in his hands. Could feel that thing between him, the thing Jaehyun knew but never said, still, after all these years. 

“The others will forgive us, then.” Mark was half in his own world, mind always moving so fast.

“We have suffered enough, haven’t we?” Jaehyun asked. Mark hummed, the sound almost derisive. “Mark,” Jaehyun said, trying to get Mark to look at him again.

It worked. “Yes?” Mark lifted his eyes to Jaehyun, their usual warmth creeping back into them. 

“I love you,” Jaehyun whispered. 

Mark kissed him again; this time, their noses knocked painfully, but Jaehyun didn’t care. It was good to put it down, finally. After all these years. “I love you, too,” Mark said. “I never stopped loving you. Do you know that?”

Jaehyun smiled. “I know,” he replied. “I always knew.”

- - -

Most gods settled into their roles long before humans began to record their histories, but one god in particular has much more modern origins. He was not granted his title until many centuries after the height of the gods’ power, and the legends will never mention his name, but those who still practice pray to him the way they would pray to his husband, the way many prayed to his husband for thousands of years. He and his husband share a domain but split their duties, and their followers are known to be bright and intelligent, kind and gentle. They attribute this to these gods’ faithful and long-enduring relationship. 

Though the gods very rarely visit the human realm, this new god takes frequent trips to walk among the mortals. He had been one of them, once, so the other gods allow him this dalliance. He knows what happens when gods disturb human lives. He spends his days watching them, guiding them in secret. When he goes home, he goes home to a love he has known his whole life.

His husband, the god Mark, still looks after culture and most of the arts, but pieces of each are left to him. Yoonoh, his followers call him. God of music and piety.