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There’s a man sleeping on Donghyeok’s couch.
Scratch that. There’s a literal god passed out on Donghyeok’s couch.
Tufts of black hair fall in his eyes, one toned arm thrown above his head as light snores escape from his lips. Full lips, pouty and perfect, so the snores can be forgiven. The position he’s lying in causes his shirt to ride up a few centimeters on a similarly toned stomach. More abs than Mark would even know what to do with peek out from under the hem—an insane amount of muscle, but his waist is fucking tiny.
Mark thinks if he were to wrap his hands around it and squeeze, his middle fingers would touch.
Eyes roving further down, Mark stares at how tight black jeans cling deliciously to the man’s thighs, legs stretching out for days and hanging off the end of the couch. Even the white crew socks he’s wearing make his feet look dainty and precious.
Mark feels dizzy.
It has nothing to do with the four beers Donghyeok force-fed him at the bar over the past couple of hours, and everything to do with the beautiful man spread out like a feast in front of his weak, weak eyes.
Mark didn’t even think he liked men until about a minute and fourteen seconds ago. Right around the time that he walked through the door of Donghyeok’s apartment and froze in his tracks, confronted with the newfound love of his life.
Sure, there have been vague instances in the past where he’s had to stop and be like, waitasecond: eyes lingering on Renjun’s mouth when Chenle slathers a deep mauve lipstick on him at one of their many parties, feeling something a little more pleasurable than nausea when Renjun tucks his head in Mark’s neck whenever he’s just tired enough not to be embarrassed by it, heart skipping every other beat when Mark goes to watch one of Renjun’s dance recitals and sees him mixing contemporary with ballet as he moves fluidly across the stage—okay, mostly a lot of looking at Renjun—but he hadn’t really known. Not consciously, anyway. This is like a knockout punch from a WWE fighter while all the other times have been feather-light kicks to the shin.
He’s taking it pretty well. If staring at soft, pouty lips and imagining them yielding under his own can be considered well.
“Doejfkdnk,” Mark gurgles, then clears his throat. “Donghyeok.”
“Hmm?” There’s some clanging in the background, and then Donghyeok peers around the door leading into the kitchen for a brief second to make quick eye contact with Mark. He disappears again, and his disembodied voice floats in, “What did you say?”
Mark points a faint finger at the angel on the couch. “There’s a—a guy.”
Donghyeok’s head pops back into view. “Again, what? I’m busy.”
“A guy. A boy,” Mark hisses, trying to keep his voice soft so as not to wake the still snoring off-duty male model lounging like a wet dream only a meter away. “A man. On your couch. Right there.”
Sighing, Donghyeok disappears from Mark’s eyesight another time before finally stalking through the door, two beers in hand that he sets down on the coffee table.
“Oh, him?” Donghyeok motions beside him. “That’s just Jeno.”
Just Jeno snoozes on peacefully, undisturbed, so Mark walks over to grab one of the beers, not down with being mostly sober while having some sort of male attraction revelation or whatever. If Donghyeok wants to keep drinking, he’s down. But he gets his hand smacked away for his troubles, and stumbles back with a wounded expression.
”Hey,” he says, cross.
“Bad Mark,” Donghyeok chides him like a dog. “Those aren’t for you.”
Mark shoves his hands in his pockets. “Whyyy, man, you’re drinking more too? And who’s Jeno?”
Donghyeok rolls his eyes. “It’s for Jaehyun, dickhead. You have working hands and feet, you can get your own. And that’s Jeno right there. Duh,” he says, walking over to the bedroom door to bang loudly on it. “Hyung!”
Mark follows him over. “Who’s Jeno?”
“Hyungie, come out here,” Donghyeok says, ignoring him. “Join us before I have to deal with Mark alone any longer.”
The door cracks open after a couple of seconds of Donghyeok’s insistent knocking. Jaehyun’s annoyed head pokes out. He doesn’t seem to be wearing any clothing from what Mark can see. But that doesn’t do anything to him—not like the sight of the boy on the couch. A nervous glance over his shoulder shows Jeno still fast asleep. Still beautiful.
Jaehyun tugs his headphones down around his very naked chest. “I’m watching a two-hour deep dive on Johannes Vermeer. Can’t it wait, baby?”
Donghyeok pouts. “But I got you that stupid beer you like. The weird pumpkin one from that craft brewery you always talk about.”
Jaehyun squints at him suspiciously before shutting the door in his face. It reopens a couple seconds later and he shuffles through, headphones-less but thankfully with a shirt on this time. “I guess that’s a pretty good reason.”
Donghyeok beams, grabbing his hand. Mark follows again as he leads Jaehyun to the couch, where Jeno—
Jeno’s eyes are now open. He seems to be frozen in place much like Mark was earlier, halfway through yawning and rubbing a hand through his hair. Staring back at Mark’s own wide eyes in surprise, startling him so much he stumbles into Jaehyun and almost brings them both down.
“You good, Markie?” Jaehyun laughs, righting him with a hand on his back.
Jeno’s mouth finally closes. “Oh,” he says.
”I’m good,” Mark squeaks when he gets his feet beneath him. Then, to Jeno, “Hi!” And then inwardly wants to jump into a volcano and blow himself up.
This is his soulmate and all he can manage is a measly little ‘hi’? Not even a full hello? If any of those trashy fiction novels he devoured freshman year were real, Jeno would forever have that stupid, generic greeting scrawled on his arm in ugly script. Not Mark, though. Jeno’s eloquent ‘oh’ would be written in fancy cursive font across his wrist, the perfect size to trace a careful thumb across, to treasure close to his heart. He’s aware that he might be going insane over someone to whom he hasn’t even officially been introduced, but Mark has never, ever felt like this before. And is also maybe experiencing a mild mind-break. It’s cool.
Whatever he says to Jeno next has to be really good. Soulmate-skin-writing worthy, but still normal somehow. Casual.
“I’m Mark. You’re beautiful.”
Fuck.
“Hi Mark, and thank you. I’m Jeno,” Jeno replies, a delicious flush starting at the base of his neck and spreading upward, highlighting his cheekbones in a way that makes Mark want to bite them. What the hell is happening?
”Who are you?” Mark asks again, but he’s drowned out by Donghyeok’s laugh.
“Mark, what the fuck?” Donghyeok shoves Jeno’s legs off the couch to clear a space for Jaehyun to sit. Jaehyun laughs again too, ruffling Mark’s hair before plopping down beside Jeno. “That was the gayest possible thing you could’ve said.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Mark murmurs, still staring. No one will tell him who just-Jeno is—but Jeno’s lips curl up in a smile for the first time. His eyes start to crinkle around the corners. It knocks the breath clean out of Mark’s lungs.
“Wait, what?” Donghyeok shrieks. “What do you mean by that? You’re not gay. I think I’d know if you were gay.”
Mark blushes red to match Jeno, twin flustered expressions on their faces. He still doesn’t break their staring contest even though this much eye contact can’t be healthy for his libido. Or his poor, poor brain. Jeno is starting to look intrigued now, blinking sleepiness out of his eyes.
“I don’t think I am, bro. I literally do not have an explanation.”
Donghyeok sighs as he flops down in Jaehyun’s lap, handing him one of the beers from the table before cracking open his own. Jaehyun grabs it gratefully and wraps an arm around his waist.
Now that they’re all sitting, Mark realises he’s still hovering awkwardly in the same spot where his whole worldview had shifted. Shuffling over to the coffee table to perch on the side, Mark draws his knees up so they don’t bump against Jeno’s, trying to make himself as small as possible. Donghyeok really needs to invest in more furniture for his tiny apartment.
”So,” Mark swallows awkwardly. “Who is—”
“Mark, I tried to get you to fuck me for months during our first year,” Donghyeok says, cross. “Why couldn’t you have had this little self-discovery journey then?”
When Jeno fully laughs, his eyes scrunch up so tiny that they look like little sideways parentheses. Sat this close together, Mark has the best view in the house. He kind of wants to marry Jeno.
No, that’s not right. He definitely wants to marry Jeno. Even if no one will tell him who Jeno is.
“You’re dating my brother, Hyeok. Leave this one for me,” Jeno complains, crinkling his nose.
“Brother?” Mark croaks. He’s clinging to the first bit of information received so far, but—Leave this one for me? Oh, there’s no way he’s surviving the night. “I didn’t know Jaehyun had any brothers.”
”I contain multitudes,” Jaehyun says.
“Different moms,” Jeno explains. “Mine took me to live in Japan for most of my life. I didn’t meet him until a few years ago.”
Donghyeok leans further back in Jaehyun’s arms, reaching out to tug playfully at Jeno’s ear. “And now the little baby is back from Japan for good this time. He’s gonna be staying with us for a week until classes start back up and his lease kicks in.”
“You’re going to college here?” Mark blurts out.
Jeno cocks his head, still holding Mark’s stare. He’s aware—on some level—that he’s being super obvious but the other option is to run out of the building, drop out of college, and never see Jeno again, so he can’t really be blamed. “Yeah, I transferred from Toho Gakuen for my last two years. I’m studying music composition. What about you?”
A junior, then. Mark’s about to start his senior year. That gives them at least one year to casually date and get to know each other before Mark has to start thinking about the future, maybe about how he’ll put a ring on Jeno’s finger, or how to get Jeno under his roof forever. Mark hasn’t even said thirty words to the man and is already planning their wedding. It’ll be outdoors in spring; vows promised under the cherry blossoms, exchanging matching diamond rings while surrounded by close friends and family. Fantasy-Jeno is wearing a white suit, corset-cut to accentuate a slim waist and delectable pecs that Mark can see through the tight muscle tee Real-World-Jeno is currently sporting. The image is more enticing than expected. Easy to get lost in.
Belatedly, he realises Jeno’s still waiting for a response. “That’s so dope. Me too,” Mark manages to reply, then clams up again. Jeno’s smile grows in size.
“Unbelievable,” Donghyeok gripes. “It’s like we’re not even here.”
Jaehyun has half-lost interest in the conversation, probably thinking about the art history video they dragged him away from, immersed in rubbing cold fingers from the beer along Donghyeok’s waist.
Desperate to continue talking to Jeno about anything, really, Mark grasps at a random topic.
“Sooo… how about the Leafs this season?”
Jeno tilts his head again. It’s adorable. Almost puppy-like. Mark wants to scream. “I’m not really into hockey.”
Dejected, Mark’s shoulders drop. “How about American football? Basketball? What about the World Cup?”
At each shake of Jeno’s head, Mark’s shoulders droop even further as he runs out of conversation topics. What does he normally discuss with men other than sports? He talks to Renjun every single day of his life, but cannot for the life of him remember what about. For a second, Mark contemplates sneaking a glance at their text thread, but decides against it as it might be too obvious. Looking cool or suave has never been one of his strong suits, but that would knock him out of the game before he even has a chance to try to impress Jeno.
Mercifully, Donghyeok steps in. “Markie here is on the swim team with me. He’s a bit obsessed with sports no matter how much Jaehyun-ah and I try to beat it out of him.”
Jeno nods in understanding. “I like F1.”
Fuck, the one sport Mark could not care less about. “I love F1!” he rushes to say. “Um, Ferrari. Seriously love that stuff. Looks like fun.”
Jaehyun giggles, then goes back to playing with Donghyeok’s shirt thread. Mark’s face feels like it’s flaming—but Jeno leans forward to respond anyway.
“Do you think I’d be good at F1, hyung?” Jeno asks. “I’m pretty strong and flexible.”
Mark gapes at him. Hyung. Do you even need to be flexible to drive a car, he doesn’t know. “Oh,” he wheezes, lucky to even get the word out.
Jeno’s smile looks a little evil in the low light. “I’m pretty good with my hands, too. Maybe I should get into hockey instead.”
“Uh huh,” Mark mumbles. Jeno scoots closer, knocking their knees together like Mark had been desperately trying to avoid. He thinks he can hear a vein pop in his own forehead. “I could, uh… teach you.”
“That’s so nice of you,” Jeno says, eyes going all big and wide. “Would you show me how to handle a stick? I like to learn by doing. A real hands-on approach, you know?”
Desperate, Mark looks to Donghyeok for more help, but he’s just watching the two of them in a mix between glee and horror. Jaehyun isn’t paying attention at all anymore, lost in reading the ingredients on the back of his beer.
“Don’t look at me, Mark Lee. You got yourself into this.”
Traitor. Mark takes a deep breath. “Yeah bro, I guess I could teach you.”
Jeno leans so far forward that he’s almost falling off the couch. If he slips, he’ll land directly in Mark’s lap. Mark mentally crosses his fingers. “Cool, bro. When’s our first lesson?”
Oh shit, maybe Jeno’s being serious and Mark’s the one turning it perverted in his former-straight-boy brain. Mark mentally rifles through his schedule while kicking himself. Nice going, way to almost ruin his chances with the prettiest person he’s ever seen.
“Umm, I’m usually free in the mornings on weekdays, like, after 10? But I don’t know if the ice rink’s fall hours are different than—”
“I was thinking more along the lines of right here,” Jeno cuts him off, reaching out to trace light, soft fingers along Mark’s clenched fist. “And right now.”
Mark has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep a whine in. He was reading the situation right. Oh fuck.
“Right now,” Mark repeats, weak.
Jeno nods, wrapping Mark’s wrist in a loose grip. “Right now.”
“Alright,” Donghyeok sighs. “I think I’ve heard enough.” He gets to his feet and tugs Jaehyun up beside him.
“Can we finish watching my Youtube video now?” Jaehyun perks up as he drapes an arm over Donghyeok’s shoulders.
“Yeah, baby, let’s go have a wild time,” Donghyeok deadpans. But he’s soft when he presses a quick kiss to Jaehyun’s smile.
Less soft when he whirls around and glares at Mark and Jeno. “I’m going to bed. Do not desecrate my couch,” he orders. “At least not before we get a chance to do it ourselves. Use my old room if you have to, for god’s sake.”
The implication of that makes Mark’s heart thud unhealthily fast, but there’s no time to smack Donghyeok before Jaehyun pulls him off towards the bedroom without so much as a goodnight on Donghyeok’s end. Jaehyun waves two fingers over his shoulder in goodbye, to his credit, which Mark returns with the hand not currently being held by an angel.
Their door slams shut, and then it’s just Mark and Jeno.
Mark gulps. “So…”
Jeno lets go of his wrist to trail fingers further up Mark’s arm, dancing across the defined muscle there. Nowhere close to what Jeno must be hiding under his tight shirt. Mark flexes under the attention, half-unconscious and half-showing off, making Jeno chuckle in amusement.
“So,” Jeno replies, still smiling. Mark is already obsessed with his sweet smile. “How about we start in on those lessons?”
Mark’s mouth drops open before he can get a grip, snapping it shut with an audible click as soon as he realises. He wants Jeno so bad that it’s making him look stupid.
“Okay,” Mark breathes, shooting to his feet. Jostling Jeno in the process with a rushed apology. “Um. You heard Hyeok. Lead the way.”
Jeno keeps the grip he has on Mark’s arm as he guides him through the hallway to Donghyeok’s former room. There could be an extinction-level tsunami about to wash the whole building away and Mark wouldn’t notice in the moment, too focused on the five small points of contact where Jeno is attached to his body. Enough heat seeps into Mark’s system that he could hibernate for the winter off of the warmth alone. How they make it to the room without him tripping over his own two feet and landing them both in the hospital is a case for Buzzfeed Unsolved.
“Donghyeok really used to live like a pig,” Jeno comments as he tugs his t-shirt off.
Mark’s eyes finally catch on the absolute fucking insanity that is Jeno’s abdominal muscles. He’s fluent in Korean and English, knows more than enough Japanese and Spanish to get by, and even learned a little Mandarin from an old girlfriend one time, but every single language fails him all at once. If there were any lingering doubts left in his head that he likes guys, they evaporate with the removal of Jeno’s shirt. Mark wants to bite a pink and purple trail across the hard ridges of Jeno’s stomach, sink his teeth into slim hips and a tapered, strong waist—
“Mark?”
Mark startles from where he’d been swaying toward Jeno against his will, transfixed by the sight. “Guh? I mean, what?”
Jeno smiles. “I said, Donghyeok used to be so messy before he moved into Jaehyun’s room. Why do you think I was sleeping on the couch while waiting for him to come home?” As he speaks, Jeno drops his hands to start unbuckling his belt.
Mark tracks the movement. “Mhm.”
In all honesty, he hadn’t even noticed any clutter in Donghyeok’s old room, too captivated by each centimeter of Jeno’s skin revealed under hungry eyes. At Jeno’s inquisitive look, Mark manages to snap out of it for a moment to take in the space for the first time.
“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”
Clothes litter the floor in every direction, threadbare basketball shorts and black leggings and shirts with their college insignia thrown haphazardly across every surface. The full-size mattress has a sheet on it (thankfully) but not much else. No pillowcases on the two sad pillows, none of Donghyeok’s signature stuffed animals gifted to him by Renjun lounging around, nothing. A single lamp sits on the nightstand, also covered in discarded clothing. A fire hazard—great start. Mark throws the jacket on the ground and flicks the lamp off so the only light in the room comes from overhead.
Jeno laughs. “Are you just now noticing? Cute.”
“To be fair, I think your brother is just as messy. It just gets hidden amongst Donghy—ohhh my god,” Mark bites out, looking back over to see Jeno shimmying his pants down, revealing more delicious skin. Accosting Mark with the endless surface area of supple thighs and calves. “Wow. I mean—wow.”
“Sorry,” Jeno replies. “Actually, should I be?” He sounds shy, hesitant—but still confident at the same time. Mark wishes he could be on that level.
And then he realises he can be. If he’s taken it this far already, might as well keep going.
“Don’t be,” he breathes. “You’re perfect.”
Jeno blushes at the words even as he shines brighter, so Mark backs up towards the bed before he loses his nerve. Jeno follows and Mark’s brain leaks out of his ears and onto the ground in front of them. At least he still has the presence of mind to slip his own shirt off on the way. After a few steps, his knees give out against the side of the bed.
Jeno drops to his knees to tug Mark’s sweatpants off—visual of the freaking century, ladies and gentlemen—leaving him just in boxer-briefs before climbing onto Mark’s lap in one fluid motion. Mark lets it all happen in a daze.
“Look at you,” Jeno croons as soon as he’s comfy on his new throne, curious fingers dragging down Mark’s defined stomach. “You’re cute, hyung.”
“Uh, I don’t—I mean, I’m not—I haven’t… done this, before,” Mark finishes, lame, hands flitting around Jeno’s body as if not knowing where to settle. Having a lapful of half-naked, beautiful twink when he thought he was straight a few hours ago is overwhelming, to say the least. The good kind of overwhelming, though. Mark has always thrived under pressure. “Like, with - um. A guy.”
Jeno smiles in amusement, placing Mark’s hands firmly on his bare waist. Fucking wow. “I know. I can read between the lines.”
If he doesn’t kiss this man in the next few minutes, Mark is going to die.
“And you’re fine with that?” Mark hedges.
A small voice in the back of Mark’s head whispers that Jeno might change his mind, might not want to deal with someone inexperienced after all. Jeno is so drop-dead gorgeous that he could have anyone he wants. Why does he seem to be just as into this as Mark is?
Trying to silence that annoying thought, Mark tightens his hands where they’re wrapped around Jeno’s waist. His fingers really do come close to touching each other, Mark realises through the fog in his brain. It’s alluring almost to the point of being unreal. Like Jeno crawled out of one of Mark’s most shameful late-night dreams, the ones he used to ignore whenever they happened. Gorgeous features with a tight little body and muscles for days. Jeno could bench press Mark. Could toss Mark on his back like a sack of potatoes and squat a few reps. Again, wow. He squeezes even tighter still, the ridges of Jeno’s abs giving way under his insistent fingers.
Jeno tips his head back, letting out a full-on moan at the intensity of the grip. “Yeah,” He finally breathes. “I’m pretty damn fine with that.”
“Jesus,” Mark mutters. “You’re shaped like a sexy Dorito.”
That startles a laugh out of Jeno, who drops his head back down to meet Mark’s stare. Mark still can’t get over the way his eyes practically disappear. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
Cute!!! That’s the third time Jeno has called him that. Mark is officially dying tonight.
“You’re cute,” Mark parrots back, unable to hide just how much he means it. “Adorable, Jeno-yah, so pretty.” The words make Jeno blush and try to hide his face in Mark’s neck to Mark’s immense delight, a side of him that Mark hasn’t seen until now. Oh. Oh, Jeno likes that. “Sooo cute, dude. Can I kiss you?”
Jeno’s head pops up, shooting Mark an exasperated look. “Yeah, dude, you can—”
Mark cuts him off with a kiss before he can change his mind, or before Mark can chicken out. Their noses bump as Mark’s chapped lips rub against his in a way that can’t be pleasant. Jeno breaks the kiss with a frown. Fuck, Mark fucked it up. But instead of getting off of Mark’s lap and telling him he changed his mind, Jeno just grabs Mark’s chin. Tilts his face up so the angle is more favorable, licks (licks!) Mark’s lips to get them wet for an easier slide, and dives right back in. When their mouths meet a second time, the difference is astronomical. If this is what kissing a man is like, then Mark wants more. Jeno’s lips are soft like a girl’s against his own now, but still with an undercurrent of masculinity that’s inescapable.
Fingers dug into the divots of Jeno’s hips, Mark feels the results of what must be an insane amount of work put in at the gym, probably blowing his own workout repertoire out of the water. The longer the kiss goes on, the more Mark becomes aware of the hard press of Jeno’s cock against his. Light whines emanate from Jeno’s mouth into Mark’s own, sweet but with a certain deep bass to them, undeniable.
No way to forget where he is. Who he’s kissing.
Mark pulls away first, dizzy with the combination of that knowledge mixed with heady arousal. Jeno’s lips are a shade redder than before. Swollen and slick as his breath comes out shaky—Mark did that.
The visual hits him like an uppercut to the jaw. He lets his head fall back just enough to draw Jeno’s eyes, lips following soon after to nibble on Mark’s throat. A sharp little sensation that has his hands clutching tighter at Jeno’s waist.
“I don’t have any lube,” Mark confesses once he finds his voice, embarrassed. The words come out clear enough, but not as strong as he was hoping. “I, uh. Wasn’t exactly planning on this happening.”
“Are you forgetting whose apartment we’re in? Donghyeok probably has lube stashed in every possible crevice.” Jeno brands the words into his throat.
Mark nods in agreement, knocking his chin on Jeno’s head, clumsy. “Right on.” He perks up. “And I’ve got a condom in my wallet!”
Jeno finally rears back from where he’d been working what’s sure to be an impressive bruise on the side of Mark’s neck. Mark reaches up to touch wet, tender skin, dick growing even harder between them at the sensitive feeling. Everything about Jeno is doing it for him.
“I knew you were the cub scout type,” Jeno teases, leaving one last kiss on Mark’s lips before tumbling off his lap. Mark misses the weight almost instantaneously. “Go get it. Be quick, okay?”
Mark has never moved so fast in his life, and he beat Donghyeok’s record time at the last swim meet by six whole seconds. When he gets back to the room with the condom gripped in a sweaty hand (thankfully not running into anyone on the journey to the living room) Jeno has managed to lose his underwear and find the lube, shifting from leg to leg. Impatience written into every line of his body.
There’s only a split second of time for Mark to take in Jeno’s body sans clothing—that’s a dick, this is happening—before Jeno gently shoves him back down on the mattress, crawling in Mark’s lap again like it’s his rightful spot.
Jeno kisses him deep, slips him his tongue for a few tantalising seconds before cracking open the lube. Mark squeaks into his mouth at the snick of the cap. This is all progressing so fast—which Mark has no complaints about whatsoever, zero, zip, nada—but he can’t quite squash the nerves that come with doing something different. Key word different, but not bad.
Really fucking good, actually. Anticipatory rather than apprehensive. He’s about to get his dick wet, it could never be bad.
“I haven’t done this before either,” Mark repeats before he can think better of it. If he hadn’t slept with a guy before, why would he have fingered one? Idiot.
Jeno doesn’t make fun of him, though. Just smiles at him, fond already. Mark gets the strangest urge to kiss the corners of his eyes. “I’ll teach you,” Jeno promises, slicking up his fingers.
Mark has to kiss him again. He might be getting addicted to the way Jeno’s lips feel against his, pliant and wet. All of that tight muscle and hidden strength is nowhere to be found. Jeno yields under Mark’s greed, allowing Mark to dictate the pace this time. It’s a mistake. Once Mark has a small taste, he wants more. Always more.
“That’s so fucking hot,” Mark mumbles, stealing one more kiss, then another. “Show me what you like.”
Jeno opens himself up on one finger to start, slipping a second in soon after a little moan escapes that Mark swallows down in a quick kiss. The angle looks awkward, slightly uncomfortable to Mark’s untrained eyes. Sat like this, straddling Mark’s lap with one hand pressed behind him, the other clawing at Mark’s shoulder, eyes clenched shut against the sensation, Jeno paints the prettiest fucking picture Mark’s ever seen.
He can’t help it. Blindly grabbing at the lube while Jeno is distracted, Mark coats a finger of his own and presses it in alongside Jeno’s. All he can feel is soft heat.
“Oh,” Jeno whines, startled. “Oh my god.”
The hand that was scratching imprints into Mark’s shoulder flies behind him to latch onto Mark’s wrist instead, gripping where it disappears inside Jeno’s body. Like this, Jeno’s abdomen flexes with the immense strength it must take to keep himself perched on Mark’s lap while leaning back unsupported. His cock bobs in the air with the new angle. Mark gets a good look at it for the first time. Flushed pink and leaking steadily, precum beading at the tip with each combined stroke of their fingers. Tempting. Pretty. Mark’s never found another dick pretty before. He wants to know if Jeno tastes as good as he looks, and tells him as much while working another finger in, stretching him open, thorough. He’s so warm and wet inside.
“Hyung,” Jeno moans, writhing faster on four fingers now. “Mark-hyung, I need you to fuck me. Right now.”
Mark nods, fast and dumb. “Um, will that be enough? Like, is four fingers good?”
For all that he’s watched gay porn (four times during freshman year with his roommate Daniel, okay, he was curious) and talked to Jaemin about his many exploits before meeting Renjun, Mark is still shockingly new to this. Having Jeno in his lap feels like being thrown into the middle of the ocean head-first after barely learning how to dog-paddle in a kiddy pool.
Jeno nods in return. “Yeah. Grab the condom.”
Mark pulls his fingers out and wipes them on Jeno’s stomach to the soundtrack of a displeased whine, fumbling next to the discarded lube for the condom as fast as possible. Jeno should never make that noise again if Mark can help it.
“Okay, just making sure. I’m kind of… big.”
He’s being honest. No bragging. It’s the same reason Mark tends to carry a larger condom in his wallet even if he’s not actively getting some, just on the off chance that the opportunity does arise. Like having a boy in his lap begging for cock when just a few hours ago he thought the world began and ended with pussy. Life comes at you fast.
“You can’t be that big—oh.”
Jeno switches tracks as soon as Mark shimmies his underwear off, barely able to shuck it down to his calves as Jeno refuses to get off his lap in the process. Once his cock is free, Mark rolls the condom on before giving himself a perfunctory stroke to take the edge off, then doing it again just because it feels so damn good. It wouldn’t do to blow his load before even getting inside of Jeno like some virgin. Wait. Technically he is a virgin.
“Wow, Mark. You weren’t kidding,” Jeno says, looking hungry.
“You’re, like, taking my virginity right now, bro,” Mark blurts out.
Jeno blinks, owl-like and slow before falling into cute, honest-to-god giggles. Mark’s face turns bright red from embarrassment even as his heart kicks faster at the sight.
“Don’t laugh,” Mark mumbles, petulant.
“You’re just so cute,” Jeno coos. “But stop calling me bro, okay hyung?”
Mark nods, head heavy with arousal. “I got you, dude.” At Jeno’s unimpressed stare, he hurries to correct himself. “I mean, I got you. Uh, baby.”
Jeno smiles and shakes his head—but quickly furrows his brow in concentration as he gets comfy in Mark’s lap and aligns Mark’s cock with his hole. The first press of fingers against Mark’s dick almost has him flatlining; even the light, perfunctory touch is overwhelming. Mark swallows against the sudden nerves. He can deal with that tomorrow.
“So is it enough?” Mark asks again, just to be sure. It’s a toss-up on how coherent or considerate he’ll be once he’s inside Jeno. Better to ask now when he only marginally feels like he’s about to die.
Jeno’s eyes scrunch, pink tongue still flashing between pouted lips as he starts to sink down. “No,” He gasps. “No, it’s not. But I like it anyway.”
Shit.
Mark can’t breathe, white noise in his ears as fuzzy static travels up through his veins. It takes every ounce of self-control that he’s been accumulating over the years not to buck his hips up before Jeno’s ready. Jeno is tight, tighter than anyone he’s ever fucked. Rushing through four fingers was definitely not enough. Mark almost feels like he’s splitting him in half. The way Jeno moans around the intrusion as Mark’s hips finally meet his ass makes Mark think he’s telling the truth about liking it like this. And if Jeno likes it, who the hell is Mark not to give him whatever he wants?
Jeno’s first tentative bounce has Mark’s eyes rolling back in his head, so close to snapping that thin shred of self-control he’s still so desperately clinging to.
Like this, Jeno’s alluring waist is all Mark can see. Abs clenching and relaxing, smeared white with precum from the tip of his dick that slaps against his stomach on every roll of his hips. Mark presses a hand there to feel the flex, watching the ripple of his abdomen when his pace stutters.
“Wow,” Mark breathes. A good word to sum up everything that’s happened tonight. Each drag of his cock inside tight heat is mindblowing. Wow. “Wow, baby. You’re taking me so well.”
Jeno whines. “Okay, fine. Call me baby again,” he demands. Mark almost swallows his tongue in his haste to comply.
“Baby,” Mark repeats, dutiful, then again. “Baby, baby. You’re so pretty, baby. Look so good—I can’t believe it.”
Jeno’s hips falter again, pace growing erratic as he tries to suck in a breath through his mouth. Mark latches onto the reaction fast as lightning, fucking his hips up at the same time as he reaches out a hand to wrap around Jeno’s cock, stroking in time with each thrust.
“The prettiest, Jeno-yah, what have you done to me? You’re too perfect. Look at your pretty little waist, your mouth. Made to take me, made for me to lose my mind.”
Mark barely knows what he’s saying, too caught up in the headspace he drop-kicked them into, getting off on telling Jeno he’s amazing while Jeno gets off on being told.
The last thread snaps.
On Jeno’s next upward movement, Mark lifts him off of his cock, ignoring his confused noise to toss him onto the bed and crawl on top, absentmindedly kicking his underwear off where it had pooled around his calves. Mark’s grateful to his past self for all those nights spent at the gym, as it lets him manhandle Jeno around in a way that he’s almost one hundred percent sure Jeno enjoys just based on the low moan ripped out of him when Mark tosses him around. Without giving either of them more than a few seconds to breathe, Mark tries to push back in only for his dick to catch on Jeno’s rim, angle just slightly off. Frustrated and mindless, all control gone in the face of getting his dick wet, Mark shoves a pillow under Jeno’s hips and tries again, persistent. This time, the slide feels endless. Mark bottoms out even deeper than before. Jeno’s gasp sounds more like a sob.
“Good?” Mark mutters, lost to sensation even as he remembers to check in. He wants this to be good for Jeno. Wants to be good for Jeno, full stop.
Jeno nods erratically, strands of black hair matted along his forehead in a way that only serves to make him look even more angelic. Sticky with sweat but still the most beautiful thing Mark’s ever seen.
With Jeno’s affirmation, Mark sets about making him feel good. For all that tonight has been new to him, at least this part is the same. This part he knows. Mark’s had sex with a lot of people over the years since coming to study abroad and has gained a bit of a reputation, despite having zero to no game outside of it.
“Hyung,” Jeno cries out once Mark really starts giving it to him, new honorific punched out alongside all the breath in his body. “Fuck, right there. Right there.”
He’s so responsive underneath Mark. Every roll of Mark’s hips has him whining or shuddering as he just lays there and takes it. No matter how hard Mark fucks him, Jeno’s still tight as all hell around his cock. With Jeno’s direction, Mark nails his prostate again and again, working him up further.
“Who would’ve guessed,” Mark murmurs, craning his neck down to be heard. “That you’d take me so well. That underneath that pretty little face was someone so eager to please.”
“‘S good, hyung?” Jeno gasps, hands flying up to claw at Mark’s back.
“Good,” Mark rushes to confirm. “Fucking amazing, Jeno-yah. You’re so good for me.”
He has no idea how his brain is still forming words, doesn’t even know where the words are coming from in general. All Mark knows is that he needs Jeno to understand just how perfect he is.
Jeno paints a mural down Mark’s spine with his hands the faster Mark goes, the harder he thrusts, the more pretty nothings he whispers into Jeno’s ear. Nails short and clean-cut, Jeno still manages to cause enough stinging pain to bring Mark back from the edge, no longer so caught up in his own pleasure that he can’t focus on Jeno’s own.
Mark pulls back on his haunches to watch his cock disappearing inside Jeno, slowing to a controlled burn rather than a raging forest fire.
Wrapping a hand around Jeno’s cock feels like any other time he jerks off, the weight of it in his hand similar, the texture. At the same time, it’s infinitely, cosmically different. There’s no feedback loop of pleasure as a direct result of his hand movements like when it’s his own cock. Instead, he’s gifted with the mind-blowing experience of seeing Jeno’s abs contract as if Mark had punched him, curling in on himself even as Mark keeps fucking into him. The whimper that wracks his body is downright obscene. Stroking Jeno’s cock in time with each slow thrust elicits reactions that are enticing enough to be addictive. Ten thousand times better than when he does it to himself.
“Mark-hyung,” Jeno moans, hands coming up to leave more scratches on Mark’s arms. Trophies that Mark will show off more than his actual gold medals. “I’m—close, I’m so close.”
Mark speeds up each roll of his hips again, each tug of his hand. Jeno’s tongue falls out of his mouth as he pants for air.
“You can come, baby,” Mark breathes, not knowing if Jeno was asking or telling him. It seems presumptuous to assume that he would ask for permission, but—
The words are barely out of Mark’s mouth before Jeno is tossing his head back with an honest-to-god wail, cum hitting his chin with the force of his orgasm, hole seizing up tight enough to have Mark bowled over and hissing.
Jeno’s cock jerks against his stomach as Mark’s hips kick once, twice, almost unable to pull out on each thrust, and Mark comes harder than he ever has in his entire fucking life. He sinks his teeth into Jeno’s shoulder the moment he falls over the edge. Feeling more than hearing Jeno’s high-pitched whine, nibbling and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise as he rides out the aftershocks. Still grinding forward into Jeno’s warmth. After a few blissful minutes spent bordering on the delicious edge of pleasure-pain-pleasure, Mark pulls out to another unhappy noise that he quickly swallows down.
“Shh, baby,” Mark whispers against Jeno’s lips, inane, meant to soothe before capturing his mouth again.
One deep kiss turns into several short, adoring brushes against Jeno’s lips as they both come down, coaxing light sighs out of his throat instead of the displeased whine from before. When Jeno’s mouth stops moving in sync with Mark’s, too tired to keep going, Mark rolls off of him with one last kiss on his forehead. He doesn’t say anything—but neither does Jeno.
Tying off the condom proves tricky due to shaky hands and the sheer amount of cum filling it. Mark swears he’s never had such an intense orgasm.
He wants more. He wants Jeno.
But first, he tugs his underwear back on before sneaking into the hallway to scour the pantry for clean sheets and a fluffy blanket, pilfering them along with two pillowcases.
Creeping back into the room, he finds Jeno sitting up with his underwear on, all cleaned up, hands wrapped around his bare waist. Eyes closed, almost shy in the aftermath. Incredible. Mark feels an overwhelming surge of affection for the man in front of him, wants to know anything and everything about him. More importantly, he wants to keep him. Mark can worry about what that means in the morning.
It’s only a matter of half a minute to strip the bed and change the sheets. Mark flicks the light off, then guides a pliant Jeno under the blanket to lay his head down on a newly covered pillow. Tapping two fingers under his chin, Mark tips Jeno’s head up. Another sweet kiss bestowed on his forehead. Baby, indeed.
“Are you going to run away now?” Jeno whispers as he cracks his eyes open, voice soft and scratchy from exertion.
It’s the first coherent thing he’s said in ten minutes. He almost seems resigned now that Mark has cleaned them up and tucked him into bed. Like Mark leaving is a foregone conclusion.
Ha. Try getting rid of him now.
“What’s your last name?” Mark asks, ignoring Jeno’s own question as he crawls into bed beside him. Remaining a safe distance away just in case Jeno’s response isn’t favorable. Mark doesn’t want to disrespect any boundaries.
A faint look of surprise passes over Jeno’s face as he tilts his head in the manner Mark has been noticing all night. Another direct hit to the heart. Jeno 10,000, Mark 0.
“I guess we don’t know each other’s family names,” Jeno muses. “It’s Lee.”
That has to be a sign. Mark grins. “Good. Mine too. So you won’t have to change yours when we get married.” For a moment, all Jeno can do is stare. “I’m not running,” Mark says, gentler than he feels he has any right to be, confused as he is about all of this. Jeno just brings it out in him already. “Not yet at least.”
Mark keeps smiling until Jeno’s own curl up at the corners to match, spreading into the goofiest grin known to mankind when Jeno scoots closer to rest his head on Mark’s chest. Mark starts petting tired fingers through his hair.
“You know what?” Jeno muses. “I think I really like you.”
“Does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?” Mark asks, biting down on the elation bubbling up inside of him.
Jeno nuzzles against his hand. “Depends. Are you still going to teach me how to play hockey? Stuff some pucks in with my stick?” He juts his chin up and winks at Mark. Winks.
Mark’s face turns firetruck red. Still, he’s not about to let Jeno one-up him again. “I don’t know, man,” Mark mumbles. “I think you got the stick in there pretty deep tonight already. What’s there left to learn?”
There’s a moment of silence in which Mark regrets his entire life, and then Jeno is shoving him away and snickering, causing Mark’s hand to fall out of his hair in the process. His eyes disappear into his cheeks again. Mark wants to kiss him so bad.
“Alright, alright,” Jeno protests, still giggling. “I’ll go out with you if you promise never to make that joke again.” A brief pause. “And if you put your hand back where it was.”
Mark hides his own smile in Jeno’s hair while resuming the rhythmic petting motion from before. Jeno snuggles back into his chest, letting out a pleased sigh. Hot breath ghosts over Mark’s nipple, making him shiver, but he ignores it. This has to be the most content he’s ever been. Whatever freak-out he’s due to have isn’t coming tonight; Mark’s not sure if the gravity of what just happened will hit him tomorrow, but he’s perfectly happy for now. Holding Jeno in his arms with nothing to do but sleep and steal Jaehyun and Donghyeok’s food in the morning to cook breakfast. Maybe he’ll make Jeno strawberry pancakes.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”