Work Text:
Johnny meets Mark for the first time in the meeting room of Vogue. He watches Mark stumble into the room after knocking, carrying the room’s coffee orders. The people around the table start stacking the scattered papers, moving them around and making room for their orders.
Mark takes out a seemingly endless amount of plastic coffee cups from the large cooling bag he’d been lugging around, and places them all on the meeting room table. Once he’s done, he looks around the room expectantly, eyebrows rising ever so slightly and big eyes shining as if on command.
“Right,” Johnny says, realizing, “This one’s on me.” He fishes out his wallet from his bag beneath the table and looks at Mark as he takes out the cash, giving the younger boy an encouraging nod.
Mark scurries over and accepts the money with a bow of his head. He shuffles through the notes and mutters under his breath as he’s counting. His eyes widen.
“This is- are you sure you meant to give me this much?” Mark asks with an endearing squeak.
“It’s all yours…?” Johnny says, a silent question at the end.
“Mark.”
“Well then, it’s all yours, Mark.”
Up close, Johnny notices the darkness under Mark’s eyes and the rough state of his skin. It’s second nature for him to notice these things, seeing as he still edits all of his own photos.
“I uh, thank you. Seriously,” Mark says as he turns to round the table and leave.
On his way out, Mark ends up tripping on something, sending him face-first into one of the small, ornate tables and then the floor. Johnny winces at the sound of Mark’s face hitting the hard wood of the table, and he can swear he hears Mark let out a pained groan.
Mark gets up on his feet before anyone has the time to react, keeping a hand against his eyebrow.
“Sorry about that, that was… If I dented the table or anything, send an invoice to my job and I’ll pay. I really gotta head to my next job.” And with that, Mark is out the door.
-
Johnny ends up seeing Mark again only a few days later when he decides to try a new coffee shop to edit his pictures in. This one seems to be a bit less crowded than the ones Johnny usually ends up going to, and he hopes that doesn’t mean that the coffee is bad.
To say he’s surprised to see Mark behind the counter would be an understatement. How many jobs does this guy have?
Once Johnny gets to the front of the line, he notices the dark, nasty bruise surrounding Mark’s eye and eyebrow, no doubt from his fall the other day.
Mark’s eyes widen once he recognizes Johnny, but then he winces, softly touching the bruise with his fingers.
“Hey, what a surprise!” Mark says, “I hope the table is okay, uh, what can I get for you?”
Johnny’s heart melts a little bit. “Table’s all fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll just have an Americano for now, please.”
“Sure thing! You can go ahead and sit down, I’ll bring it to you once it’s done.”
Johnny chooses to sit in a corner where he has a good view of the rest of the coffee shop, something to look at when his eyes need a break from the screen. The place is decorated well, a variety of knick-knacks littering every available surface. Some people might find it to be too much, but Johnny likes it. He only has the time to take his laptop out and turn it on before Mark comes over with his coffee.
“Here you go,” Mark says as he sets the cup down, not unlike the first time they met, “I hope you like it, if not, let me know, and I’ll make you something else, free of charge of course.”
“I’m sure it’s great,” Johnny assures, and Mark’s tense shoulders relax slightly.
“Right! You know my name, but I never got yours,” Mark exclaims, big eyes curious.
Johnny can’t help but let out a laugh, “Johnny,” he says.
Johnny stays for a couple of hours, completely focused on his work. Once he finally looks up from his screen, he’s surprised to see that it’s gotten dark out. His coffee is long gone by now, so he decides to order another one for the ride home.
Behind the counter, Mark is putting on his jacket. It’s well-worn, fabric thinning around the elbows. He struggles with the zipper for a while before getting it all the way up.
“Hey, man, everything good?” Mark asks once he notices Johnny. “I can make you something else if it’s not too complicated, I’m kinda in a rush to get to my other job.”
“Just another Americano, to go this time, if you’ve got the time.”
“‘f ‘course, just a second.”
Mark makes Johnny’s coffee at an impressive speed before quickly bidding his goodbye and rushing through the front entrance.
-
A couple of weeks go by until Johnny sees Mark again. He’s been to the coffee shop a handful of times, but Mark hasn’t been there. It’s not that he came to see Mark specifically, but a familiar face is always welcome, at least that’s what Johnny tells himself.
The chilly air bites at Johnny’s exposed neck, and he finds himself wishing that he’d worn a scarf. It’s a particularly cold day for August.
As Johnny crosses the street to the coffee shop, he sees a figure sitting curled up against the façade, hands covering their eyes. At a closer look, he realizes that it’s Mark. He’s still wearing the thin jacket he wore the last time Johnny saw him.
“Mark?” Johnny says, voice hesitant.
Mark looks up, eyes blinking a few times before widening. They’re puffy and red like he’s been crying for a while, but the bruise has all but faded. Mark wipes his face clumsily before opening his mouth.
“Hey, man,” he croaks, trying to sound casual, “If you wanted my Americano, I’m afraid I don’t work here anymore as of, uh, like ten minutes ago.”
Johnny’s eyebrows shoot up. That’s not what he expected Mark to say.
“You quit?”
“Nah, fired.” Mark tries his best to grin, but fails miserably. “Apparently places don’t like it when you’re late all the time.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that.” Johnny doesn’t quite what to say. Looking at Mark like this, teary-eyed and shivering, he looks more boyish than Johnny has ever seen him.
“It’s fine, I’ll just get some more shifts at the other job until I find something else.” Despite his youth, Mark has the dark circles of someone who’s worked for the last 40 years.
“You haven’t considered taking it as an opportunity to rest?” Johnny feels stupid saying it. It’s not that easy for most people, he should know, but he can’t help but wish for Mark to be able to take it easy.
“I can’t. What’s it people say? Sleep is for the dead?” Mark chuckles halfheartedly.
Johnny sighs. “Well, you can’t be sitting out here all night, how about we get something to eat? It’s late, you must be hungry.”
“Oh, no, I’m-” Mark is interrupted by his stomach growling, and he looks away, embarrassed.
“C’mon, my treat.”
Mark gets up, shaking his head while dusting his jeans off. “Man, you don’t have to do that-”
“I want to,” Johnny says, “And if it’s that much of a bother, you’ll just have to treat me next time.”
Mark eats his fancy sandwich (the cheapest thing on the menu) like a man starved. For a second, Johnny worries that he’s going to choke.
They ended up going to a place only a couple of blocks over. It’s a pricey neighborhood and Mark eyed the surrounding restaurants nervously, despite Johnny already promising that he will pay.
It’s pretty cozy, intricately patterned walls and dark furniture. There are a couple of lit candles between them on the table.
Johnny bought a sandwich as well, despite not really being hungry. He just didn’t want Mark to feel bad about eating something.
“So,” Johnny starts, “What else do you do outside working two jobs?”
Mark finishes chewing before answering. “I study at Julliard, piano. Term started again this week,” he says like it’s not a big deal, taking another bite of his sandwich.
“Shit, that’s impressive. How do you even have time to work?”
Johnny, luckily, didn’t have to work during college, taking out student loans and living with his parents for the duration of his studying. While he went to a nice school, it wasn’t nearly as nice as Julliard, which was a relief for his wallet.
“Well, to be honest, I don’t, really. Have time, that is. But I still gotta do it. Living in New York is not cheap, Y’know.”
Oh, Johnny knows. The apartment he lives in was purchased for a ridiculous amount of money, but with the money he’s earning, it was nothing that set him back for too long.
“You don’t live on campus?”
“Nope, they haven’t got enough room. The seniors have to find their own places and that’s a whole shitshow in an of itself, and my lease is ending in a month and I haven’t found a new place yet. Being fired really fucked me over too, ‘cause now my income is fucked and- shit I didn’t mean to rant like that. Sorry,” Mark says, tips of his ears turning red.
“Don’t worry about it, you needed to get it off your chest. You’re a senior, you said? So you’re, what, 22?” Johnny hopes that’s the case, he didn’t realize that Mark is in college, and he doesn’t want to be the creepy 30-year-old hanging out with college kids.
“No, I’m uh, I’m 24. I had to take some gap years to work.”
That both makes Johnny feel better and worse at the same time. Mark has been working two jobs for god knows how long, and that’s still not enough? How much does it fucking cost to go to Julliard? Jesus.
“But, uh, what about you? We’ve talked a lot about me, but I don’t know anything about you,” Mark says. He fiddles with the tablecloth next to his empty plate, glancing at Johnny’s barely touched sandwich.
“I’m a fashion photographer and I do freelancing for a lot of magazines here and around the world,” Johnny explains, “I was just finishing up with Vogue when we met there.”
“Dang, that’s sick! You must be a pretty big deal, then?” Mark’s eyebrows shoot up, making his eyes large and sparkly. He has a very expressive face, Johnny notes with a hint of endearment.
Johnny snorts, “I guess you could say that.”
Mark goes on to ask to see some of his pictures, to which Johnny gets his phone out and hands it over. His phone gallery is still full of pictures from the Vogue shoot, and Mark seems to be studying each one in detail before swiping to the next. He makes small impressed noises every once in a while, and Johnny can’t help but smile. Mark is very cute.
“Yo, you’re so good. I don’t know what I was expecting, but, dude, this is like, art,” Mark says.
“Thank you.”
Once it’s time for them to leave, Johnny hands Mark his sandwich, wrapped in a napkin to take home and Mark refuses because he’s polite, but eventually gives in. Then, Johnny does something that he hasn’t properly thought through.
“Hey, Mark? If you want to, you can rent a room in my apartment once your lease is up,” he says. He’s only been considering it for a couple of minutes, and doesn’t even know which room he would rent out, but he just feels the need to help Mark out however he can. It’s probably condescending, considering how Mark has made it this far on his own, but Johnny has always had a bleeding heart.
“Huh? Really? You’d do that?” Mark looks like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.
“Yeah, you don’t have to, it’s fine if you want to look for something else, but just know that you can have my place as a backup.”
“Dude, seriously, thank you. I’ll probably look around for other places ‘cause I don’t want to impose, Y’know?”
“You wouldn’t be, but here’s my number if you need to reach me.” Johnny hands him a business card with his personal number written on the back. “And you can call even if it’s not about the apartment, if you just want to talk.”
“Thanks, Johnny. I appreciate it.”
Mark’s red face doesn’t go unnoticed, and Johnny bites back a smile.
-
When Johnny pulls up to Mark’s, now old, apartment, Mark is already outside with some of his things. Two boxes, a suitcase, and a backpack. He looks up from his phone when Johnny gets out of the car.
“Do you need help getting the rest of your stuff?” Johnny asks.
Mark shakes his head. “This is all of it. I don’t have a lot?”
That would be an understatement, Johnny thinks, but he doesn’t say anything. Mark may just be a minimalist, then again, he doesn’t seem to have a lot of disposable income.
“Alright, makes it easier for us. Come on, let’s put the boxes in the backseat and the rest in the trunk.”
Traffic is heavy since it’s afternoon, so the drive to Johnny’s apartment takes a while, but Mark spends it studying every nook and cranny of Johnny’s car. It’s a great car, dude! He says when Johnny laughs at him.
Mark is equally impressed by the elevator that takes them up to Johnny’s apartment. Johnny, the ride is like, so smooth! . Johnny decides then and there that Mark is the cutest 24-year-old he has ever met.
They toe their shoes off by the door, and Johnny hands Mark a coat hanger, which he also seems impressed by.
Mark makes an excited sound when Johnny shows him his room.
“Woah, I’ve never had a big bed before! This is great!” He exclaims, big smile on his face.
Mark throws himself on the bed, spreading his arms and legs as wide as he can, then he lifts his head to look at Johnny. “Dude… Do you see this? I have so much room!”
“It’s a game changer,” Johnny says, laughing. He remembers getting his first double bed, though he wasn’t quite as excited as Mark is now.
Mark unpacks his stuff quickly, and Johnny feels like he gets a peek at who Mark really is. He has a cheap record player and a small collection of vinyls, many of them classical, mostly piano, but also a seemingly random selection of other artists; Florence and the Machine, Exo, and Frank Sinatra.
“ Are you Korean? ” Johnny asks, in Korean, upon seeing the Exo record.
Mark’s head snaps around fast enough for Johnny to worry that he hurt himself.
“ Yeah! You too? ” Mark replies, still in Korean, and Johnny nods. “ Then… Can I call you hyung? ”
Johnny chokes out a go ahead . It’s been a long, long time since someone called him hyung .
“Johnny-hyung,” Mark tries out, satisfied smile on his face. Johnny’s chest feels like it’s on fire.
-
Living with Mark turns out to be a lot of fun, and Mark latches onto Johnny immediately, always hanging around. He’s a bit like one of those mother-less ducklings who imprint on the first living creature they see, the living creature in this case being Johnny.
( Hyung, do you wanna see this movie with me? I really liked the first one! Johnny hasn’t seen the first one, but he doesn’t say that. He reads a summary in the cinema bathroom before the movie starts. It’s still confusing, and he doesn’t get all the Easter eggs and references that Mark gets, slapping Johnny’s arm in excitement each time. They have a good time, though. Mark eats nearly all of their popcorn.)
When he has the time, Mark likes to sit in Johnny’s office, watching him work. He’s a bit distracting, but Johnny would never say that.
( Hyung! Could you teach me how to do that some day? Johnny is editing photo’s for an upcoming interview with a famous singer. The pictures are all done in double exposure, on film, and they’re themed around the singer’s newest album. Just let me know when you’ve got the time, Markie, I’d love to teach you. )
Mark also turns out to be very eager-to-please, either that or he’s still anxious about getting to stay at Johnny’s place, because as soon as Johnny asks him to do something or help out, he does it immediately, dropping whatever he was doing.
( Mark? You think you could do the dishes today? I’m gonna get groceries. Mark abandons his dinner in favor of starting to wash up. He scrapes the food off his plate and into the trash before Johnny has the chance to stop him. By the time Johnny is home from the store again, everything is washed and dried already, and all the surfaces have been cleaned off. Mark is nowhere to be seen)
-
Mark has been searching for a new second job ever since he was fired from the café. Johnny tells him time and time again that he doesn’t need to, that his rent isn’t high enough to warrant two jobs. In all honesty, if Johnny got his way, Mark wouldn’t pay rent at all. Johnny already owns the apartment, and it’s not like Mark puts much of a dent into the week’s groceries. He knows it’s stupid, he barely knows Mark, yet everything feels so natural with Mark. It’s as if they’ve known each other forever.
“Hyung!” Mark bursts into Johnny’s office, where he’s sitting hunched over his keyboard, picking out photos. “Guess what?”
Johnny spins around in his chair to face Mark. “You… Saw a really cute dog on the way home?”
Mark makes a face. “No, that would be pretty nice, though. I got a new job! It’s at a convenience store only a couple of minutes away.”
Mark looks so genuinely happy that Johnny doesn’t have it in him to argue about it. “That’s great, Markie.”
“I thought I’d never get one, but then Donghyuck sent me the link to the application for this one.”
Donghyuck is Mark’s best friend. He also studies at Julliard, but is a singer. Other than that, all Johnny knows about him is that he’s apparently in love with Renjun, the so-called Ice Prince of the orchestra’s string section.
“I’m happy for you. Just make sure not to work too much, okay? You need to rest, too.”
“ Yes, hyung .” Mark rolls his eyes. “Can we order pizza?”
Johnny laughs.
-
Johnny has always been a vocal driver, just like his parents. He scolds people under his breath for driving poorly and raises his voice. It’s not that he has a temper, he’s just a perfectionist when it comes to everything, driving included.
Mark seems to be in a good mood as they drive back to the apartment. He’s humming along to the song on the radio and tapping along with his fingers against his thigh.
Johnny just picked him up from campus, where Mark had stayed late to practice the piece he’s been working on. It’s incredibly difficult, as far as Johnny understands, and Mark needs to perfect it for the big concert being held in January.
Usually, Mark is tired when he gets home, but the fact that he’s in good spirits makes Johnny believe that he made some major progress today. They’ll probably talk about it during dinner.
Everything is fine until another car, coming from the right, speeds in front of them, turning harshly and cutting in front of them in the lane they’re in.
“Hey, what the fuck!” Johnny yells as he’s forced to step on the brakes. He moves his hand to honk, but sees Mark flinch out of the corner of his eye. He looks to the side and sees Mark clutching the car handle tightly, eyes clenched shut and body frozen rigid. The anger melts away from him in an instant.
“Mark? Hey, Markie, what’s wrong?” Johnny asks softly, “It’s okay, you’re safe. We didn’t get hit.”
Mark stays silent even as they pull into the parking garage, hand still clutching the handle and eyes a million miles away. His other hand is gripping the fabric of his jeans, creasing it.
Johnny unbuckles both of their seat belts and reaches over the console to but a hand on Mark’s shoulder. Although he tries not to, it still startles Mark, whose head snaps to the left to stare at Johnny with wide, fearful eyes.
“Talk to me, Markie,” Johnny encourages, voice soft.
Mark blinks a couple of times, swallowing before opening his mouth. “I uh, sorry about that. I just-” Mark closes his eyes for a second. “I just remembered something from when I was a kid. Don’t worry about it, man, it’s all good.”
And with that, Mark opens the car door and heads towards the elevator.
Johnny stays in the car for a moment, trying to make sense of the reaction. He’s never seen Mark act like that before, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t concern him.
By the time he gets inside, the shower is running. Johnny starts on dinner right away, Mark is usually hungry once he gets home, Johnny certainly is.
Mark showers for a long time, much longer than he usually does, always so adamant about saving water. Once he exits the bathroom, he heads straight into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
He doesn’t come out for the rest of the night.
-
The day after Mark’s scare in the car, he leaves before Johnny gets up, which is unusual, since he usually tries to sleep for as long as possible. He sends Mark a couple of messages throughout the day, but they all go unanswered.
Johnny starts to seriously worry by the time it’s 9pm, and he hasn’t heard anything. Sure, it’s Friday, but Mark always lets him know when he’ll be out with friends, even though Johnny has never asked him to.
At 10pm, Johnny’s Where are you? Text gets replied to.
at a party
will prolly be late
dont wait up
Johnny frowns. Mark doesn’t usually party, but then again, they’ve only known each other for a couple of months, so, what does Johnny know?
Even though he was told not to, Johnny ends up staying up until pretty late. In fact, he falls asleep on the couch and only wakes up to his phone vibrating next to him. He shoots up when he sees Mark’s name on the screen.
“Mark?” he says, worried.
“Hyung…” Mark slurs, “Johnny-hyung, I’m so- I’m so drunk.” Music plays loudly in the background, and he thinks he hears Mark telling someone to leave him alone.
“Mark, Markie, do you know where you are?” Johnny is already putting his shoes on, phone pinched between his shoulder and ear. He grabs his coat and rushes out the door.
“I don’t know.” Mark sniffles. “‘s close to that place we had sandwiches?”
“Yeah? Tell me what the building looks like,” Johnny encourages, putting his phone on speaker and starting the car. He takes a deep breath before driving out of the parking garage.
“‘s big- tall, uh, got these big pillars outside- I don’t know! I can’t remember.” There is yelling in the background, Mark says something that Johnny can’t make out.
“It’s okay, Mark. I know where you mean, I’m gonna come get you.”
“You are? You’re coming for me?”
“Of course I am. Do you think you can go outside to the entrance and wait for me there?” Johnny is definitely driving over the speed limit, but he can’t find it in himself to care. In this moment, all he can think about is Mark.
“Uh huh, I can.”
“Good boy, Markie. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”
“Okay. I’m in the elevator.”
“That’s great, I’m pulling up now, and I’ll meet you by the door.”
Johnny hurries out of the car, heading inside the building just as the elevator doors open and Mark stumbles out.
He looks like a mess, hair tangled and shirt buttons unbuttoned. There are red spots littering his neck, and Johnny can’t help but feel a pang of hurt, but he quickly pushes it down in favor of steadying Mark.
“Hyung! You came!” Mark cries, “I was so scared and there were so many people and it was so wet-” Mark wraps his arms tightly around Johnny’s waist, pressing his face into Johnny’s chest. They don’t usually hug, but Johnny’s arms naturally find themselves around Mark, holding him like he might disappear at any moment. Johnny can’t say he gets scared a lot, but waking up to Mark’s drunk voice on the phone made his heart sink deep into his stomach.
“It’s okay, hyung’s got you. You’re safe now,” he says, both for Mark and for himself, stroking the back of Mark’s head.
“I like you so much, hyung, you always take care of me. I like you so much it hurts, even though I shouldn’t,” Mark confesses. His lips move against the fabric of Johnny’s shirt.
Johnny doesn’t know what to say, but Mark doesn’t seem to care, he just keeps talking.
“‘m so dizzy. My legs feel funny.” Mark sways a little in Johnny’s embrace.
“Did someone give you something?”
“I don’t know. I was fine, and then I wasn’t and everyone was kissing me even though I told them I don’t want to… I only want to kiss hyung, but they didn’t care.”
Johnny feels the way his jaw clenches, and something angry starts boiling inside of him. He looks into Mark’s eyes, checking his pupils, and feels at his forehead. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.
“Did they do more than kiss you?”
“Noo, I called hyung,” Mark whines, nuzzling his face further into Johnny’s chest.
“Good, that’s good. You did good, baby. Let’s go home.”
Getting Mark into the apartment turns out to be more of a challenge than Johnny had anticipated, and he ends up carrying Mark into his bedroom and helping him change.
It’s the first time he sees Mark undressed, but he doesn’t dwell on it, given the circumstances. He helps Mark into the t-shirt he has thrown over his desk chair, pulling Mark’s arms through the armholes.
Once he’s tucked Mark in and turns to leave, Mark makes a sad sound, pouting, “Don’t go, hyung. Don’t leave me alone.”
Johnny sighs, a mix of endearment and worry. He’d already planned on staying with Mark through the night to keep track of him. “Just let me change, then I’ll come back, okay?”
Mark is staring at the door when Johnny comes back in his sleep shirt, hazy smile making its way back to his face. Johnny lies down next to him and Mark immediately clings to him, fingers grabbing his shirt and stretching it out. Johnny doesn’t have it in him to tell Mark off for it.
“I can’t believe it,” Mark says, eyes barely open, “I never thought it was possible to like someone this much, hyung.”
“Yeah?” Johnny doesn’t want to push Mark to speak, he’d rather hear this from Mark when he’s sober, but a selfish part of him wants to know everything Mark has to say. He wonders if Mark can feel the way his heart is beating in his chest right now.
“It feels like I’m exploding on the inside.” Mark’s arms are wrapped around Johnny’s bicep, hugging it like it’s a doll. He doesn’t have any plushies on his bed, unlike Johnny, who has too many. “My parents are divorced. Did you know that?”
“I didn’t. I’m sorry to hear that.” Johnny has friends whose parents divorced at some point during their friendship. Sometimes it was rough and sometimes it was a relief.
“‘s okay. My dad’s not a good guy. Mom left and never came back,” Mark says, a distant tilt to his voice, like he’s detached himself from the matter completely. “Dad got meaner after that. Hated everyone except for me, but also me sometimes? I dunno, hard to keep track of everything. Y’know what’s fucked up?”
“What is, Markie?”
“I still love ‘im, at least sometimes? I know I shouldn’t, but he’s my dad. I miss my dad.” Johnny feels teardrops wetting his shirt, and he lifts his hand to stoke Mark’s cheek softly. Mark leans into the touch like a kitten.
“It’s gonna be okay, Mark. You’re gonna be okay. I’ll make sure of it,” Johnny promises.
Mark falls asleep quickly after that, snoring softly against Johnny’s shoulder. He looks peaceful in his sleep, face relaxed and breathing even. It makes him look younger, or maybe he just looks more like his age.
Johnny stares at the ceiling, trying to process everything that just went down. It’s been a long time since he felt fear the way he did today. It makes it hard for him to deny the feelings he has for Mark, as much as he’s been trying to push them away, thinking Mark only ever wanted him as an older brother-figure. Now, he’s not sure what to think.
Mark was drunk and scared, maybe he didn’t mean what he said? Then again, if he didn’t mean it, why would he say it? It’s unlike him, Mark always tells the truth, if he doesn’t want to, he simply doesn’t say anything.
One thing is for sure, they need to talk about it in the morning.
-
Johnny wakes up to an empty bed, the other side of the mattress still warm. He sees that the kitchen lamp is on through the open door of Mark’s bedroom. It’s still early, Johnny notes as he checks his phone, too early for someone who stayed out all night.
Stretching with a groan, Johnny gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen, where he finds Mark sitting by the table with an uneaten piece of toast.
Johnny clears his throat and Mark jumps in his seat. “Good morning,” he says.
“Morning,” Mark croaks. The bags under his eyes are noticeable even from a distance. “Did I wake you up?”
“No, you’re fine.”
“Okay, good. I think I’ll go back to sleep for a bit.” Mark gets up, making his way past Johnny.
“Mark,” Johnny says, taking Mark’s wrist in his hand, “We need to talk.”
Mark freezes where he stands, back turned to Johnny. He sighs, turning around. His hands are shaking slightly.
“Let’s sit down, yeah?” Johnny leads them to the living room, sitting down on the couch. “What you said yesterday-”
“I’m sorry!” Mark bursts out, looking at Johnny with wide, fearful eyes.
“You’re sorry?” Johnny tries not to let his disappointment show, but he has a feeling that he doesn’t succeed. So, Mark did just say all of that in the moment?
“I didn’t- I don’t… I just-” Mark stutters. He’s scratching at the side of his finger with his nails. “Please don’t kick me out! I swear I’ll do better-”
“Hey, hey, where’s that coming from? No one is getting kicked out here,” Johnny assures, “I just want to know if you meant what you said yesterday. You can stay here regardless.”
Mark lets out a big sigh, sinking into the couch. “Really?”
“Of course.”
“Well, uh, what if I… What if I meant it?” Mark squeaks out, face red.
Johnny smiles. He feels like his heart is about to burst. “Yeah? You did?”
“ Hyung , don’t tease me,” he whines, “It’s embarrassing!” Mark covers his face with his hands, hiding.
“I’m not teasing. Mark, look at me,” Johnny urges.
Mark hesitantly removes his hands, staring up at Johnny with a silent question playing in his eyes. He has a hard time keeping eye-contact.
“I like you, too.” Mark takes a few seconds to react, but then he all but throws himself at Johnny, wrapping his arms around Johnny’s waist and pressing his chest into Johnny’s chest, not unlike how he did it yesterday. Johnny’s arms find themselves around Mark naturally. It feels good.
“If you’re playing right now-” Mark starts.
“I’m not,” Johnny interrupts, “I like you, Mark, so much.”
Mark looks up, chin still resting against Johnny’s chest. His face and ears are a pleasant pink flush that makes Johnny’s heart soar. “Really?” He whispers.
Johnny presses a kiss to his forehead. “Really.”
-
The first time they have sex, Mark won’t stop crying afterward. It’s as if a switch was flipped the moment Johnny pulls out and lets go of Mark’s hand, which he had been holding for the majority of the time. It’s sweet, Johnny thinks, how Mark reached for his hand to hold as soon as he pushed inside.
Johnny doesn’t notice at first, too occupied with getting a towel from the bathroom to clean Mark up. The moment he stands up, walking the couple of steps into the bathroom, a sob leaves Mark’s lips.
“No!” Mark cries, “Don’t- hyung don’t leave me. ’m sorry, I’ll- I’ll do better next time. I don’t- please-”
Johnny rushes back, dropping the towels on the floor in favor of gathering Mark up in his arms. Mark’s body trembles violently. His skin is sightly damp from sweat and his hair sticks to his forehead.
“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong? Does something hurt?” Johnny asks, trying his best to stay calm. He checks where he can for any bruising or blood, but doesn’t find any.
Mark doesn’t answer at first. “Hyung, I’m sorry. I didn’t- I tried. I’m sorry-” He’s choking on his words, hyperventilating.
“Breathe, Markie. You don’t have anything you need to be sorry for,” Johnny assures, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around Mark’s body. “You were so good for me, baby, made me feel so good. No one’s ever made me feel like that. You were perfect, baby.”
Mark turns his head and sobs into Johnny’s chest, arms wrapped around him. Johnny brings one hand up to cradle Mark’s head, stroking his hair as he cries.
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, “It’s okay to cry. I’ll stay with you. I won’t go anywhere, I promise.” Johnny speaks the words against Mark’s temple.
They sit like that for a long time, until Mark’s sobbing turns into sniffles. Johnny presses a kiss against Mark’s skin before speaking again. “Markie? What happened, baby? What made you so overwhelmed?”
Mark winces. “It’s stupid.”
“Nothing you say is stupid.”
Mark sighs, sitting up and maneuvering into Johnny’s lap so that they’re facing each other. “I just felt really scared for some reason? Like, we were so close together, and then you were gone all of a sudden, and everything felt really fuzzy. Does that make sense?”
“It does,” Johnny says, holding Mark’s cheek in one of his hands, “I’m sorry for leaving. I just wanted to get something to wipe you off, so you wouldn’t be sticky.”
“‘s okay. I didn’t know I’d react like that. I’ve never been like that before.” He rests his cheek against Johnny’s shoulder, tired.
“To me, it looked a lot like you were having a subdrop. Do you know what that is?”
“Isn’t that a BDSM thing?”
Johnny hums, “It can be, but you don’t have to do anything too intense for it to happen. You were quite deep in a different headspace while we were having sex, yeah?” Mark nods. “So, when I left you to go to the bathroom, you were pulled from that headspace too suddenly and that’s why you felt so distressed.”
“I guess that makes sense, but we were just having normal sex?” Mark comes up from Johnny’s shoulder again, looking at him with furrowed brows. Johnny smiles, tucking Mark’s hair behind his ear.
“I think we were doing some stuff that would fall outside of normal sex ,” Johnny says, “I was leading the whole time, and you were quite passive, no? It doesn’t have to be anything more than that, but I think we should talk about it, so we know what to expect better. I don’t want you to get upset like that again.”
-
They go on their first official date ( we didn’t say the other ones were dates, hyung! They don’t count! ) at the start of December, right as the first snow settles on the ground. Despite dating for two months at this point, they’ve both been too busy to go on designated all-day dates, only doing small things like seeing a movie or getting take-out, which, again, doesn’t count .
Johnny takes them to a department store first, because he wants to show Mark the intricate Christmas displays. Mark spends the time alternating between oohing and aahing , and lamenting how expensive everything is. Eventually, though, Johnny manages to convince Mark to let him buy him a sweater. It’s nice and soft, cashmere, because Mark loves soft things, but cashmere is very much out of his self-appointed budget. Mark carries the bag happily when they leave the store, his hand in the paper bag, stroking the fabric when he thinks Johnny isn’t looking. Johnny wants to buy him all the cashmere in the world.
After that, Johnny’s plan was to take them to his favorite Korean restaurant, but they end up getting side-tracked after walking past a music store, which Mark longingly stares at as they walk past. He doesn’t say that he wants to go inside, but when Johnny asks, Mark nods happily.
Inside, rows and rows of records are stacked along one wall, instruments and equipment along the other. Mark’s eyes widen at the selection, gravitating over to the wall of records, but letting a finger stroke along the grand piano standing in the center of the room.
Mark flips through the records in the classical section, humming as he finds things that interest him. Then, he picks one out.
“Hyung!” Mark calls, turning the record around to show Johnny, “This is the one I’m playing for the concert.”
Liszt’s Transcendental Études . Johnny isn’t familiar with them, but his heart warms at Mark’s excited expression. “Are you gonna buy it?” he asks.
It’s here, in the busy music store, that Johnny realizes that he loves Mark. He probably has for a while now, but it only became clear at this moment, seeing Mark surrounded by the things he loves.
Mark bites the inside of his lip, brows furrowing as he thinks. He reaches for his wallet, counting the money inside. Johnny wants to offer to pay, but he knows that Mark will feel uncomfortable.
“Yeah,” Mark says, putting his wallet back, “I’ve been looking for this one, and I’m sure it’ll sound better on vinyl than on YouTube. My record player is kind of crap, though, so I dunno.”
Johnny hums, “I’m sure it will. Maybe you’ll get a better one sometime.”
Mark nods, determined, and heads toward the checkout counter, handing over his hard-earned cash to the employee. Johnny can’t stop smiling.
At the restaurant, Mark is buzzing in his seat as they wait for the food. It’s been a long time since he’s had Korean Food, he confesses, not since his mom left. Johnny doesn’t know when that was, but from the sound of it, it was a long time ago.
The waitress comes out carrying a variety of meat and side-dishes. She sets them down between Mark and Johnny, and shows them how to work the grill.
Johnny is in charge of grilling the meat, something he’s very happy to do - no he doesn’t want to show off! - while Mark tries all the side-dishes, making a variety of pleased sounds as he chews each one. An endeared smile makes its way onto Johnny’s face.
“ Hyung! ” Mark exclaims after Johnny’s fed him the first piece of meat, “This is so good!” He wiggles a little in his seat as he chews.
“Really?” Johnny laughs. A pleasant, warm feeling settles in Johnny’s chest.
“ Really, really. Wah, this is so nostalgic ,” Mark says, slipping into Korean.
As the night progresses, and they empty more and more plates, Mark grows increasingly distant, staring off into space. It’s clear that he’s trying to act like nothing is wrong, doing his best to answer happily when Johnny talks to him, but Johnny can tell that his head is somewhere else.
Mark almost doses off in the car on the way home, and he stays silent in the elevator.
Once inside, they quickly shrug off their coats, heading straight for the couch. Mark sits down on the other side from Johnny, curling up against the armrest and fiddling with his sleeve. His knee bounces.
“You okay, Markie?” Johnny asks gently. Clearly he’s not okay, but Johnny doesn’t know how else to start the conversation.
Mark shakes his head. “Everything is just- It’s just warm and bulky, and everything’s itching and I feel so overwhelmed-” He makes a sad noise, scratching at his skin beneath the sleeve of his shirt.
“Do you want to change clothes? Want me to get you a shirt?” Mark nods, head hanging.
Johnny heads into his bedroom, picking out one of the shirts he knows Mark likes, soft and thin from years of washes, and heads back into the living room, where Mark has stripped out of his sweater and his jeans. He hands the shirt over, and Mark slips it on easily, sighing.
“Is that better, baby?” Johnny asks, settling back down on the couch. Mark inches closer, sitting close enough for their thighs to touch.
“Yeah.” He rests his head on Johnny’s shoulder, but keeps his arms to himself, so Johnny makes no move to touch him.
“You seemed a bit down at dinner. Do you want to talk about it?”
“I, uh, sorry for being like that. It just reminded me a lot of when I was a kid. I know I haven’t told you about it-”
“You don’t have to,” Johnny interrupts.
“I know, hyung. I want to. It’s just hard to explain. I only realized recently that my dad isn’t a nice guy, and I’m so used to defending him all the time, so it’s hard to talk about the bad parts.
But, uh, basically, my dad has this back injury that has left him with chronic pain. He’s been like that since I was 6. He can’t work, so he lives on benefits.”
“That sounds rough.” Johnny doesn’t know where this is going, but he tries his best to offer support as Mark gathers the strength to talk.
“It was- is. He’s had a bunch of surgeries and stuff, but nothing has worked because a lot of the pain is mental now? Like, they technically fixed what was wrong with his back, but his brain still thinks there’s something wrong. So, there’s nothing they can do to fix it, and he refuses therapy and groups and stuff like that.
That’s just, like, background. My dad is a… he’s an angry person, especially when he has bad pain days. So, when I was growing up I always had to walk on eggshells at home because I didn’t know what mood he was in, and I was always told be quiet, your dad is sleeping , and stuff. It was like, I never knew when he would just… explode, you know?”
Johnny nods, he doesn’t know what it must have been like, but understands. He imagines a young Mark tip-toeing around his house, listening for sounds of his father. It makes a pit settle in his stomach.
“He would yell at me and my mom a lot, sometimes for no reason. I was- I am , really scared of my dad. I just never know what he’s thinking. He goes from loving people to hating them all the time, especially neighbors or old friends of his, so he doesn’t have anyone in his life. He’s a bit like that with me too, he gets angry, and I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, but then all of a sudden I’m his son that he loves. It’s so confusing.
When I lived at home he used to ask me to do everything for him, or help him all the time, even with stuff I know he knew how to do, and did on his own when I wasn’t home. I just always had to do things for him. I started cooking my own meals when I was 9, because my mom worked late, and my dad would sleep during the day.”
Johnny has seen pictures of Mark as a child. He was small and thin. The image of Mark standing on a stool to reach the stove properly, cooking, comes to mind. When Johnny first saw that picture, he thought it was cute, child-Mark helping out with dinner. This paints it in a different light entirely.
“After they divorced,” Mark starts with a deep breath, “He started getting really angry and sad. He talked a lot about killing himself, and I used to have nightmares about it. He relied a lot on me, and I spent basically all my free time taking care of him in high school.” Mark shakes his head. “Ugh! I can’t- this, it doesn’t sound like a big deal. I think I’m just making it bigger in my head or something."
Johnny takes Mark’s hand. “It is a big deal. I don’t think you’re exaggerating things. You’re just so used to it that it feels normal. Kids shouldn’t be afraid of their parents, Mark.”
“I guess,” Mark says wetly. His eyes are shiny with tears. “I just don’t know what parts are normal and what parts are, like, abuse. ” He whispers the last word like it’s something to be ashamed of. “Sometimes I wish, ah, this is gonna sound awful, but, sometimes I wish he’d just have beaten us or something. It would have been simpler.”
“It’s okay to feel like that.” Mark is right, it does sound kind of awful, but at the same time, Johnny gets what he means. Parents hitting their kids is quite clearly abuse, and Mark wishes he didn’t have to go into detail for people to understand.
“Anyway, that’s why I freaked out like that in the car that one time. When stuff like that happened, my dad used to always drive really recklessly to try and scare the other driver, and he would yell and stuff. When I begged him to stop, he would always yell at me. So, yeah, I will probably get like that again. I really hate car rides.” Mark sinks down on the couch, wrapping his arms around Johnny’s bicep.
“Oh, Markie,” Johnny breathes, feeling guilty, “I’m sorry for reacting like that in the car. I won’t raise my voice anymore.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know, and I know you’d never treat me like that. It’s just that, in those moments, every man becomes my dad. It’s like I’m back with him again.”
Johnny wrestles his arm out of Mark’s hold and shuffles Mark onto his lap, leaning over to have their noses touch. A small giggle makes it out of Mark’s mouth.
“Thank you for trusting me,” Johnny says, thumb stroking along Mark’s cheekbone. “I love you.”
It bursts out of him before he can react.
Mark freezes, eyes wide. Johnny panics. Who confesses like that after their boyfriend describes being abused as a child? What’s wrong with him? Jesus.
Luckily, Mark relaxes again, laughing happily. “Hyung! Your face!”
“What’s wrong with my face? You love my face!” Johnny whines.
“Yeah.” Mark leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Johnny’s lips. “I love you, too,” he whispers.
-
They sit together on the couch, a movie playing on the TV that neither of them are paying attention to. Mark’s head is in Johnny’s lap and his eyes are closed. His hair is long between Johnny’s fingers in a way that isn’t intentional. It goes in Mark’s eyes and over his ears, forcing him to tuck it behind them constantly. Still, Mark is too frugal to go to a salon to get it cut, insisting that it’s a waste of money, even though Johnny sees the way Mark shudders, overstimulated and close to tears after a long day, at his hair touching his neck.
“Markie, baby?” Johnny murmurs, “You shouldn’t fall asleep here, how about you go to bed instead? You’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
As much as it pains Johnny to say, Mark is still working two jobs while studying, hellishly stubborn in wanting to provide for himself, for the both of them, no matter how many times Johnny tries to assure him that they’ll be fine. I don’t want to be a burden, Mark says, I don’t want to be useless .
Mark whines at the reminder, squirming in Johnny’s lap before sitting up and opening his eyes. They’re still red-rimmed from when he was crying earlier, and Johnny sighs, stroking Mark’s cheek gently with his thumb. Mark cries so much, he’s worn so thin that once he starts he has a hard time stopping. Johnny should fill up his water bottle and put it in the fridge, so that Mark has it ready to bring with him tomorrow.
“C’mon, let’s get some water in you and then go to bed. I’ll help you brush your teeth, yeah?”
Mark gives him a tired nod before getting up.
“You wanna sleep in your room or our?” Johnny asks as Mark spits the toothpaste into the sink.
Mark still has his room furnished the way it was when he moved in. He needs a place to be alone, and sometimes that extends to sleeping alone. Johnny doesn’t mind, he’s free to sleep alone in his room as well, although he always calls it their room.
“Our room,” Mark whispers.
In bed, Mark curls around Johnny like an octopus, desperate for the comfort that only Johnny can provide. It turns the bed into a furnace, but Johnny will never say anything, he just wants to help Mark.
“Love you, hyung, thank you,” Mark murmurs against his chest like he always does before falling asleep.
“Love you more, Markie.”
-
Johnny is more excited for Christmas than he has been in years. Waking up with Mark still asleep next to him, a soft pout on his face, feels like something that came straight out of his dreams as a teenager.
Getting out of bed carefully, Johnny makes his way to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Mark hasn’t had a happy Christmas since he was very young, barely remembering it at this point, and Johnny is dead-set on making this good. It may not overshadow all the bad memories, but maybe in a couple years, after a couple of Christmases, the holiday will be a happy occasion for Mark too. Johnny feels giddy at the thought of spending every Christmas from now on with Mark.
They’re spending it alone, Johnny’s parents coming down from Chicago in a couple of days. He looks forward to it, it’s been a couple of months since he last saw them, and he can’t wait to introduce them to Mark.
Mark is stressed out, everything considered, so they’re taking it one day at a time. He still needs to practice for the concert, which is quickly approaching, and is only taking a couple days off for Christmas. Johnny hopes that one of his gifts will help Mark stay home a little more.
They had plenty of Christmas food yesterday, so Johnny’s just making their regular weekend breakfast, maybe a bit fancier, pancakes, eggs and bacon, toast with jam. He puts chocolate chips in some of the pancakes, knowing Mark will get a kick out of it.
By the time Johnny finishes up, Mark walks into the kitchen, dressed in his cashmere sweater and sleep-shorts.
Johnny turns the stove off, walking over to Mark in quick strides, enveloping him in a hug. “Merry Christmas,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Mark’s forehead.
“Merry Christmas, hyung.”
They sit down at the table, where Johnny has placed all the plates of food down.
Mark reaches over the table, grabbing what he likes and putting it on his plates, sweet on one and savory on the other, making a surprised sound when he cuts into one of the pancakes.
“Hyung! There’s chocolate in this one,” he says, happy.
“Indeed,” laughs Johnny, “A special Christmas treat.”
Mark takes a bite, closing his eyes and wiggling a little in his seat. “It’s so good! I’ve never had pancakes with chocolate.”
“Really? You can have it whenever you want.”
Breakfast goes great, and Johnny achieved the reaction he was hoping for with the pancakes, although he expected Mark to have had them before, given his sweet tooth, and is filled with a happy warmth watching Mark finish his food.
When they’ve cleaned up, they settled down in the living room, ready to open the gifts they got for each other.
Johnny’s parents have gotten them both gifts as well, that they are bringing with them from Chicago, but Mark doesn’t know that yet.
Mark bites at the skin by his nail as he watches Johnny unwrap his gift. He’s been anxious over the gift-giving, given their different salaries and his frugal nature. Johnny has done his best to assure him that he’ll love whatever Mark gets him, but Mark is nothing is if not stubborn when it comes to his insecurities.
Johnny opens the lid to the small gift box, searching through the fragile, red tissue paper, before finding the actual gift. It’s soft leather, and as he lifts it, he sees that it’s a wallet. A timeless style, made from high-quality leather, definitely out of Mark’s budget.
He looks up at Mark. “This is so nice! Thank you.”
“Look inside!” Mark gnaws at his bottom lip, toes curling into the soft rug.
Johnny does as told, unfolding the wallet. His first thought is that it has lots of space for cards, but he’s sure that’s not what Mark wants him to see. Looking closer, he sees it. At the bottom, engraved in the leather. M ♡ J
“Mark,” Johnny breathes.
“D’you like it?” Mark asks, “I did the M-heart-J myself. I know it’s not the best-”
“I love it,” Johnny interrupts, “It’s the best. I’ll never use another wallet in my life.”
That makes Mark laugh, slapping Johnny’s arm. His ears have turned red.
“Seriously, baby, this is such a nice gift. You had nothing to worry about.” Johnny shuffles closer to Mark, wrapping his arms around him. “Thank you.”
Mark’s gift has been standing in the living room for the past week, covered in a large box to hide the shape, with a nice table cloth and a ribbon over it.
Mark is a little hesitant as he walks over to it, as if something will burst out of it once he gets close. He looks back at Johnny, who gives an encouraging nod. Mark takes the ribbon and cloth off carefully, laughing at the giant box.
“Where did you even get a box this big?”
With a lot of difficulty. Not to mention getting it through the door. “I have my ways,” Johnny says, wiggling his eyebrows.
Just as Johnny had struggled to get the box over Mark’s gift, Mark struggles getting it off. With a grunt, he lifts it, setting it down on the floor carefully, before turning back to the actual gift.
Johnny sees the way Mark freezes, staring at the shiny, black piano in front of him. It’s not like the grand pianos they have at Julliard’s concert halls, but the man at the store where Johnny bought it said that it perfect for a professional to practice on at home.
“Hyung…” Mark’s voice shakes and Johnny rushes over. “This is- You-”
Mark wraps his arms around Johnny’s waist, holding him close. He sniffles.
“Is this real?” Mark asks, “Am I dreaming?”
“All real. Do you like it?”
“ Do I like it? Hyung!” Mark bursts out, taking a step back to look at Johnny. “This must have cost a fortune! I can’t- You really got this for me?”
Johnny smiles. “Of course. Anything for you.”
Mark tears up, standing up on his tip-toes to press a kiss to Johnny’s lips. “Thank you, hyung. Thank you .”
“I may some selfish intentions with it as well,” Johnny confesses. Mark’s brows furrow.
“What do you mean?”
“You can practice at home now, right? So, I’ll get to have my Markie with me more.”
“ Hyuuung ,” Mark whines, “That’s so cheesy.”
Mark sits down on the piano bench, feeling it out, pressing the bright white keys of the piano.
“Play me something?” Johnny asks.
Mark thinks for a moment before putting his hands in position. The familiar melody of Silent Night rings out into the living room, enveloping the furniture. Mark’s eyes are closed as he plays, hands moving over the keys as if the piano is an extension of his body. He sways a little where he’s sitting, singing along.
It’s not the first time Johnny hears Mark play, he’s been there during practice sessions, waiting on worn down chairs in stuffy practice rooms, but this is different. Mark is completely at peace as he’s playing now, no pressure to be perfect before a deadline.
Johnny leans against the wall, watching Mark’s face as he plays. Seeing him like this, Johnny understands on a different level why Mark loves the piano so much, regardless of how much stress it brings him at times. He’s so in tune with the music that there’s no room for bad memories or difficult days. As long as he plays, Mark is free.
The final notes fade out as Mark presses down on the pedal. He turns to look at Johnny, happy smile on his face.
Johnny is speechless for a moment. What do you say when someone has truly let you in?
He forgoes words, leaning down and taking Mark’s head in his hands, kissing him. Mark’s hands settle on top of Johnny’s as he smiles into the kiss.
“You’re something truly special, Mark Lee,” Johnny murmurs against Mark’s lips.
“I love you, hyung.”
Mark’s phone rings when they’re watching a random Hallmark movie, and he gets a nervous expression on his face when he checks who it is. He gets up, answering, and all Johnny hears before Mark shuts the door to his room is hi, dad .
Johnny sits on the couch, barely paying attention to the movie, for close to an hour before he heads to Mark’s room, knocking gently before walking inside.
Mark lies on his side, facing away from the door, hugging the large turtle plushie they got when they went to the aquarium.
“Markie?” Johnny says, sitting down on the bed and putting a hand on Mark’s calf. “Was that your dad?”
Mark lets out a choked sob. “Yeah.”
“I’m gonna lie down next to you, okay?”
As soon as Johnny settles against the headboard, Mark turns around, putting his head on Johnny’s chest, arms still wrapped around the turtle. Johnny brings a hand up to comb through the hair on the back of Mark’s head.
“It was the usual stuff; I miss you , When are you visiting? , I need your help with something . He didn’t even ask me how I’m doing. He’s not doing great because of the cold. I know he’s drugged up ‘cause he couldn’t talk properly.” Mark sighs.
Johnny hums, one hand stoking up and down Mark’s back. Mark’s dad is on a lot of seriously strong painkillers that, in a high enough dose, make him act weird.
“He transferred money, too. A couple hundred, almost a grand. I wish he would stop doing that. I don’t want his money! He can’t buy his way out of a- abusing me,” Mark cries.
Johnny doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to make it better, doesn’t know if he can, so he just holds Mark as he cries.
“I was having such a good day, too,” Mark mumbles.
“It can still be a good day,” Johnny offers. “We shouldn’t let him ruin our first Christmas together. Now, what should we do? Eat more candy? Watch another shitty movie? Santa role-play?”
“Hyung!” Mark shrieks, slapping Johnny’s chest, “Gross!”
“You don’t want to see what good little boys get for being nice the whole year?” Johnny bites his lip to hold back a laugh.
“You’re terrible,” Mark laughs, another tear running down his cheek, “And you didn’t even know me the whole year! So, how do you know I was nice? Maybe I was really mean.”
“Then I guess I would have to punish you.” Johnny raises an eyebrow.
“No way. Santa role-play is a hard no for me.”
“Your loss,” Johnny snickers, “Movie and candy it is.”
Johnny scoops Mark up bridal-style before Mark has the time to react, walking back into the living room just in time for another movie to start playing on the TV. It looks like the one they were watching earlier, but the main character is brunette now instead of blonde.
“I love you, hyung,” Mark says when they’re sat down, limbs tangled together on the couch.
“I love you more, Markie.”
-
Mark’s head hangs low when he comes through the door, and his feet drag across the floor as he walks. He collapses on the couch next to Johnny, immediately hiding his face in Johnny’s neck. Johnny can tell he’s doing the breathing exercises that they’d learned together that one time they went to yoga. Picturing drawing a square, breathing in for the first line, holding for the second, exhaling for the third, and holding for the fourth.
Johnny puts the book he’d been reading down, wrapping his arms around Mark and pulling him up into his lap. Mark starts trembling and Johnny feels wet drops against his neck. Sometimes the breathing and the mindfulness just don’t work, in fact, most of the time it doesn’t. It only makes Mark feel worse because he feels like it’s another thing he’s failing at.
“Let me in, baby, what do you need?” Johnny murmurs, nosing at Mark’s hairline. His hair is a bit greasy, but Johnny doesn’t mind.
Mark makes a sad noise, grabbing Johnny’s hand and bringing it to his crotch. “Please,” he begs, soft and desperate against the skin of Johnny’s neck.
“You want hyung to take you out of your head for a bit? Make it all go away?” Johnny’s other hand holds the back of Mark’s neck. Not enough to choke him, but as a reminder.
“Yeah, please help me,” Mark whispers.
Johnny smiles. His boy has such good manners. “I’ll help you, baby. I just need you to do something for me first, okay?” He feels Mark nod against his neck. “Can you tell me what you do if you want to stop?”
Mark sighs, a little impatient, but he does as he’s told, he always does. What Mark craves most in the world is to be good, no matter the situation. He will never go against what Johnny tells him.
“I say ‘red’ or-” He taps Johnny’s arm three times in quick succession. “Like that.”
“Good boy, Markie. I’m gonna lift you now,” Johnny warns, and Mark winds his arms around Johnny’s neck, gasping softly when Johnny stands up.
Carrying Mark is easy, he’s shorter than Johnny and weighs much less than he probably should. Still, he eats more now than he used to, so Johnny doesn’t want to push him too much about it. One step at a time, he reminds himself.
He puts Mark down on the bed as if he were made of glass, because that’s what Mark likes on days like this. On bad days, when it feels like everything is going wrong, all Mark wants is to be good, to be treated like something precious. Some days he likes being treated a bit more roughly, having his hands pinned behind his back, Johnny’s teasing hands never quite going where Mark wants them to. But not today.
Johnny strips him of his shirt and watches the embarrassed red flush travel from Mark’s face down to his chest. It makes him squirm around on the bed, but Johnny stills him with a soft hand on his waist. It’s always endearing. Johnny loves how shy Mark is at first, and how he relaxes into the role that they’ve carefully crafted for him.
Johnny makes quick work of the rest of Mark’s clothes, leaving him naked and exposed for Johnny to see. He’s not hard yet, and won’t be for a while, because he needs to get out of his own head first.
“Hyung?” Mark whispers, looking up at him with those big eyes, “Please kiss me.”
Johnny shifts over, hovering over Mark and placing a soft kiss to his lips. Mark tastes a little bit like the watermelon candy he likes so much, and he opens his mouth eagerly as Johnny’s tongue swipes against the seam of his lips.
One of Johnny’s hands travel down to Mark’s chest, pinching one of his nipples between his fingers. Mark lets out a startled moan, opening his mouth wider. Johnny licks behind his teeth before letting up, leaving a final peck on Mark’s lips.
“Look at you, baby. Can’t believe how pretty you are,” Johnny says, straightening up and reaching for the lube they keep in the bedside drawer on his side of the bed.
Mark keens at the praise, toes curling. He turns his face and hides it in his arm, the way he always does when he’s embarrassed.
Johnny tuts, “None of that, I want to see all of my baby. I don’t want to have to cuff you.”
“Sorry, hyung,” Mark whines, turning his head again to look at Johnny.
Johnny puts a hand on Mark’s stomach, spreading his fingers until they touch either side of his waist. “God, baby, this waist of yours,” he groans, “Sometimes I think I dreamed you up.” He reaches between Mark’s legs, dry fingers stroking over his hole, then pushing a little. Mark has always been tight, especially on bad days, where his body seems to be working against him just as much as his mind. Johnny removes his fingers and squeezes some lube onto them before pushing one finger in.
Mark is waxed clean around his cock and hole, skin silky smooth and a dusty brownish pink. He says it feels better, which Johnny doesn’t doubt, since Mark is so sensitive to the barest of sensations. It must be nice for him to be smooth. His legs are waxed too. Johnny doesn’t mind either way, as long as Mark is comfortable. The act of waxing is awful, though, since Mark insists on doing it himself ( it’s much cheaper, hyung! ), but the end result is worth it.
“‘s for you,” Mark moans, “Only for you.”
Mark squirms a bit as Johnny works his whole finger in, curling and uncurling. It always takes them a while to prep, because Mark is so sensitive, and he needs to be a bit more relaxed or else everything will be overwhelming.
“That’s right, baby, you’re all mine, and I’m all yours. Isn’t that right?” Johnny says, teasing his second finger in just past Mark’s rim. His cock is filling out, leaking pre-cum steadily onto his stomach. Mark is always so wet and it makes Johnny lose his mind.
“Uh huh.” Mark nods. His eyes are clenched shut, and his mouth is open.
As Johnny pushes the second finger in alongside the first, he leans back over Mark, pressing kisses all over his face until Mark is laughing. Then, he moves down Mark’s jaw and throat, sucking marks along the way that have Mark moaning and baring his neck. Johnny kisses down to Mark’s chest, biting softly at his nipples and licking until they are red and sensitive. As he’s doing it, he pushes in a third finger.
“Tell me how it feels, Markie,” Johnny urges, spreading his fingers inside Mark’s hole, stretching it meticulously.
Mark gasps, “Ah! It- It’s good. Feels so good, hyung.” He’s thumbing at his own nipples, flicking and pinching them. “I- ‘m gonna cum, hyung. Please, can I?”
“Good boy, baby. You’re so sweet for me, asking permission. Come for me, baby boy.”
As soon as the words leave Johnny’s mouth, Mark succumbs to his orgasm, whole body shaking and cock spurting cum all the way up to his chest. He heaves a breath, still trembling with Johnny’s fingers inside of him.
“Johnny, Daddy,” Mark breathes, eyes glazed over and head empty. His body is a dead weight on the bed, and all he can do is stare at Johnny with pleading eyes.
“So pretty for me, baby. You’re so good for Daddy,” Johnny praises, slowly removing his fingers from Mark’s hole. It still makes Mark whine, ready to protest, but Johnny quickly shushes him. “Be patient. Daddy’ll fuck you soon.”
While Mark is recovering, Johnny undresses. He throws his clothes in the same heap on the floor where he’d put Mark’s clothes, ready to ignore them until tomorrow.
Mark stares at him shamelessly, the way he only does when he’s in subspace. Johnny knows he looks good, puts a lot of work into it, but Mark’s hungry eyes still manage to fluster him sometimes.
“Daddy,” Mark says, blinking slowly, “Daddy, you’re so pretty.”
Johnny smiles. “Thank you, baby.” He rips the condom packet open and rolls the condom onto his cock, because Mark won’t have the energy to clean up afterward, as much as he likes it when Johnny comes inside of him. “You’re pretty. The prettiest. My lovely Markie.”
From where he’s standing, on his knees between Mark’s spread legs, Johnny’s cock finds a perfect place next to Mark’s, absolutely dwarfing it in comparison. Mark’s cock is an average size, maybe a bit smaller, but next to Johnny’s it looks positively tiny. The sight is enough for Johnny to throw his head back with a groan.
Mark keens, a tear running down his temple. He’s starting to get restless, pinching his chest and waist.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, baby. Gonna fill you up so good,” Johnny murmurs, moving between Mark’s spread legs, stroking his cock before putting it to Mark’s hole.
He stokes it over Mark’s hole for a couple moments, teasing, until Mark cries out a strangled please, more tears escaping from his eyes. Johnny wipes them away with a careful swipe of his thumbs.
Mark is so warm and soft inside, Johnny groans as he pushes his cock in slowly. It makes Mark still, puts a stop to his crying, and Johnny sees the way his eyes roll back, hands relaxing at his sides.
Johnny sets a soft rhythm at first, slow rocks of his hips, getting Mark used to it.
“Daddy,” Mark moans, reaching out for Johnny’s hand to hold.
“What, baby?” Johnny smiles, intertwining his fingers with Mark’s.
“ More , I need more. Please give me more.”
“More? You need Daddy to fuck you harder, hm?” Johnny teases, but he keeps a steady pace. Mark nods, whining out a string of affirmatives. “Turn around then, baby. Show off for me.”
Mark does as he’s told immediately, flopping onto his stomach clumsily, making Johnny’s cock slip out, and then getting on his knees, chest to the mattress. He looks so pretty like this, tiny waist looking even tinier as he presents himself for Johnny.
Johnny slaps Mark’s ass hard enough for his hand to tingle a little, and Mark lets out a startled moan, turning his head to look back with pleading eyes. Johnny takes the hint and pushes back inside Mark, groaning as he’s able to go deeper from this angle.
Mark moans loudly, hands grabbing onto the comforter. His whole body shifts as Johnny thrusts into him.
“So good for me, baby,” Johnny grunts, “So perfect.”
Placing one hand on Mark’s nape, Johnny holds him down, and Mark lets out a keen, pushing back against Johnny’s cock.
Johnny loves Mark like this, back arched and putting complete trust in Johnny to take care of him. That’s what Johnny likes the most, he thinks, getting to take care of Mark in a way that no one else can. It lights a fire in him. Mark presents himself for him . Mark turns into a moaning mess because of him .
“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Your little hole loves being filled, hm? You love being fucked by Daddy?”
Mark doesn’t answer, soft ah ah ah ’s escaping his mouth in time with Johnny’s thrusts. His eyes are clenched shut, and he’s drooling slightly.
Johnny’s palm cracks down on Mark’s other ass cheek, and Mark clamps down on Johnny’s cock, gasping. It makes Johnny hiss.
“Daddy asked you a question, Markie,” Johnny says, slowing down his pace.
“Ngh? I didn’t- ‘m sorry, Daddy,” Mark says, turning his head and pouting. He looks too sweet for Johnny to even pretend to be mad.
“You felt too good? Daddy fucked you stupid already?”
Mark nods, teary-eyed. He looks like he wants to hide his face in the pillow again, but is holding back because Johnny is talking to him.
“Oh, it’s okay. You’re just my little baby,” Johnny murmurs, “Babies can’t keep track of so many things at once, can they? That’s why you have Daddy, no? To help you?”
Mark keens. “Yeah,” he breathes, relieved smile on his face, “Daddy helps me.”
“Turn around, baby. I wanna see you when you cum.”
With some help, Mark is maneuvered onto his back again. The marks Johnny left on him are starting to bloom into variations of red, and his hair is stuck to his forehead.
Johnny bends down to capture Mark’s lips in a wet kiss as he pushes his cock back into Mark’s wet hole. Mark whines into his mouth, letting Johnny lick around his teeth.
Mark looks so beautiful like this, disheveled and messy. His eyes are wet and red-rimmed, and his lips are sufficiently kiss-swollen.
The pace Johnny sets is hard and fast, thrusting his cock in and out of Mark in swift movements that leave Mark jolting in time with them up and down the mattress.
Mark’s mouth hangs permanently open, and Johnny takes that as an opportunity to shove two fingers in, just barely grazing Mark’s throat. He chokes for a second, before he manages to relax. As if on instinct, Mark’s lips wrap around the fingers, sucking on them while staring up at Johnny with glossy eyes.
“Come on, baby,” Johnny urges, “You can come again, can’t you?”
Mark whines around the fingers in his mouth, trying his best to nod.
Johnny smiles. “Of course you can. You’re Daddy’s good boy.” He takes his fingers out of Mark’s mouth, bringing them down to touch Mark’s nipples. Mark arches into the touch, crying out.
“Please!” he begs, “Please make me cum.”
“You’re gonna cum on my cock only, okay?”
Mark nods violently, grasping onto the sheets with one hand and intertwining his fingers with Johnny’s with the other.
Johnny’s pace is stuttering as he gets close, slowing down into rough thrusts that leave Mark crying out each time he shoves in.
“I’ll come! Daddy, please let me come.”
“Come for me, baby,” Johnny moans, voice growing desperate.
Mark comes as if on command, back arching off the mattress and cock squirting out clear fluid all over his stomach and chest. He shudders through it, trembling as Johnny keeps fucking him. As Johnny keeps going, it becomes clear that Mark is losing control of his bladder as well, piss coming out in spurts long after his orgasm has died down. It pools in his belly button and runs down the sides of his stomach. Johnny groans at the sight.
Beneath him, Mark is crying softly. “It’s coming out, Daddy. I can’t-”
“It’s okay, baby.”
Johnny only needs to thrust a few more times before coming into the condom with a groan.
He lies down on his back, pulling Mark on top of him, rubbing soothing circles over Mark’s back. Mark whines when Johnny’s cock slips out, still so terribly sensitive. Johnny hushes him, pushing his softening cock back inside for Mark to warm. He likes it, the intimacy, says it makes him feel more grounded.
Johnny can feel the thrumming of Mark’s heart against his own chest, and he hums softly into Mark’s ear. A theme from the Ghibli movie they watched recently, and Mark melts into him, cries dying down into the occasional sniffle.
“My beautiful boy,” Johnny murmurs against the shell of Mark’s ear, too-long hair tickling his lip, “My beautiful, hardworking Markie. You did so well. You listened to me so well.”
Mark squirms a little before relaxing deeper into Johnny’s embrace. His skin is growing tacky from the sweat, but Mark isn’t lucid enough to notice yet.
Johnny brings one hand up to card through Mark’s hair, keeping the other on his back as a steady weight. His cock is soft inside Mark’s hole, the warmth of it leaving him pleasantly buzzing. He needs this just as much as Mark, to know that everything is okay afterward, that he didn’t push Mark too hard.
They never dabble in anything heavier than some mild humiliation, the one time they’d tried degradation Mark had sobbed out his safeword and locked himself in the bathroom, but Johnny doesn’t mind. He’s perfectly happy with praising Mark, and teasing him when the time is right.
“Daddy?” Mark whispers. He makes no effort to lift himself from Johnny’s neck.
“Hm?”
“Was it- Did, did you feel good?”
Johnny presses a kiss to Mark’s temple, smiling. “So good, baby. No one makes me feel as good as you. You’re perfect for me.” He feels Mark smile against his skin. “Did you feel good?”
Mark whines, sitting up, and Johnny scoots back until his back is against the headboard, Mark still sitting in his lap.
His eyes are puffy, but no longer wet with tears, and he has the beautiful pink flush he always gets after sex. Johnny strokes the hair away from his forehead.
“Yeah,” Mark breathes out, “Felt really good. Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you more.”
-
Johnny drives Mark to campus the morning of the concert, kissing him goodbye over the dashboard before Mark leaves to get his final practice in.
Mark didn’t sleep well during the night, tossing and turning. Johnny is happy with his decision to forgo buying an electric piano, because he’s sure that Mark would have been up all night practicing if he could without disturbing anyone.
Johnny spends the day cleaning and preparing the apartment for when they get home after the concert. He’s bought a bouquet of roses for the dining table, put down a new table cloth, and arranged some candles.
Moving through the kitchen, Johnny works to prepare what they’ll be having for dinner, so that he only needs to cook the steak and put the potato gratin in the oven once they get back.
Mark has no idea that he’s prepared all this, and Johnny can’t wait to surprise him. As far as he knows, they’ll just get takeout today, since they have a restaurant reservation tomorrow night.
Dressed in one of his nicest suits, Johnny checks his hair in the mirror a final time before heading down to the car. Having an excuse to get dressed up is fun, and he can’t wait to see Mark in his concert suit.
They went shopping last week, after Mark confessed to not knowing what to wear for the concert. He’d been put off by the prices in the store Johnny took him to, but even Mark couldn’t deny how nice the suit looked on him.
Johnny shows his ticket to the person by the door of the concert hall, walking in and heading to his seat. He’s close to the front, right in the middle of the row, with a perfect view of the stage ahead. A piece of paper with his name on it sits on the seat, reserving it just for him.
The hall is filling up quickly, and Johnny can’t help but be surprised at the amount of people here. He knew the concert was big, but he didn’t know it was this big.
All talking dies down as an older woman walks on stage, welcoming them all to the concert. She says that Julliard’s very best are playing tonight, which Johnny hadn't known, likely because Mark didn’t want to sound full of himself. Johnny smiles, his humble boy.
First up is Donghyuck, singing a solo. He looks small, standing on the stage alone, but the moment he starts singing he is nothing but.
Johnny’s sure that Donghyuck wouldn’t actually need the microphone. His voice echos through the silent concert hall. It’s captivating, and Johnny finds himself getting moved by the emotion in Donghyuck’s voice.
Johnny hasn’t listened to classical song before, so it’s a new experience for him. He doesn’t quite know what makes it different from the singing he hears on the radio, but there’s got to be something, because this is on another level.
It’s over before Johnny can blink, but once he glances at his watch, he realizes that it’s been almost half an hour. He wonders if Donghyuck’s throat hurts after singing for so long. Back in college, his friend group were quite the karaoke-fanatics, and Johnny remembers the pain in his throat after singing for hours.
Donghyuck bows deeply before exiting the stage.
Next up is Renjun, the object of Donghyuck’s affection as far as Johnny knows, who walks onto the stage like he was born to stand there. Mark follows, sitting down on the piano bench further back.
Renjun tunes his violin for a moment before giving Mark a curt nod. They start together, Mark’s accompaniment soft and Renjun’s playing the opposite.
Just like Mark, Renjun becomes completely consumed by the music as he’s playing. His brows furrow and he tilts his head as they get into the next movement.
When Renjun is done, it’s announced that there will be a break before the final number. It makes Johnny a bit frustrated. He doesn’t want a break! He just wants to hear Mark play.
Johnny pulls his phone out, sending off a quick text to Mark.
You can do this
I love you
The room grows silent when the grand piano is moved and Mark steps out. He looks beautiful, dark hair falling in waves over his forehead, but out of his eyes. They both got haircuts last week as well. Mark’s hair is still long, but it doesn’t get in his eyes and is short enough in the back to not stress him out.
Just as Johnny knew it would, the suit looks perfect, hugging all the right places.
Mark bows before sitting down on the piano bench. He only takes one breath before starting.
Despite how many times Johnny has heard this piece, it never fails to amaze him. Mark’s fingers move fast enough to become blurs, and yet, the sound of each note is so clear, so confident.
The Mark on stage is different from the one practicing without break. On stage, Mark shines like nothing else, and he has the full attention of everyone in the room. No one is blinking, eyes glued to the way Mark’s fingers dance across the keys.
No. 2 Molto Vivace finishes and the final notes ring out. The somber sound of No. 3 Paysage takes its place. Johnny likes this one, not only because it offers Mark a break, but because it sings in such a special way, unlike any of the other parts.
Mark is barely looking at the keys as he plays. He gazes up towards the ceiling and then closes his eyes. He moves with the music, swaying.
The mood shifts again. No.4 Mazeppa . This one is long, but Mark loves the intensity of it.
With each étude, Mark transforms, aura shifting into that of the music he is playing. He becomes it, with every fiber of his being.
Hardest of them all, No. 5 Feux Follets , notoriously difficult even for the best of the best. Johnny holds his breath. Mark has spent hours upon hours on this one, perfecting the most challenging four minutes of the entire piece.
Mark plays it with a smile on his face, as if laughing at the challenge. The person next to Johnny has their mouth open, as if not believing what she’s seeing and hearing. Mark plays it perfectly.
In the blink of an eye, the first notes of No. 12 Chassé Neige ring out. The energy in the room calms, audience relaxing in their seats.
Mark’s hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, but he shows no sign of caring. His fingers glide effortlessly across the keys, just as they had done when he started an hour ago.
As the final note rings out and Mark stands up, the audience flies to their feet, drowning the room in a thunderous applause. Johnny’s hands sting from how hard he is clapping, but all he can pay attention to is Mark and how he shines under the bright stage lights.
As soon as he’s able to, Johnny rushes to the edge of the stage, flowers in hand. Mark is there, waiting for him, and the smile that blooms on his face makes Johnny’s heart soar.
“Mark,” Johnny breathes, handing the flowers over and placing both hands on Mark’s cheeks, resting their foreheads together, “You were perfect .”
Johnny can’t stop gushing over how well Mark did all throughout dinner, which Mark was happily surprised by, and even as they’re cleaning up, he just can’t seem to stop.
“Hyung,” Mark says, “I think I get it now.” He tries to sound annoyed, but the red tips of his ears give him away.
“I can’t help it,” Johnny sighs, “I just have to make sure you know how well you did.”
“Maybe you can show me some other way?” Mark suggests with an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows.
“Oh? I think you might be onto something there.”
Before Mark has the time to react, Johnny picks him up by the backs of his thighs and walks them towards the bedroom. He stops by the door, pushing Mark against it and kissing him deeply. Mark opens up easily, whining softly as Johnny’s tongue enters his mouth.
Mark’s fingers find their place at the back of Johnny’s head, tugging at his hair.
Johnny backs up again, laying Mark down carefully on the bed.
“Fuck, baby,” Johnny groans, “You look so fucking good in the suit.” He crawls over Mark, kissing down his throat.
“It feels good,” Mark moans, “Makes my ass look nice, right?”
“Yeah, fuck. I wanted to fuck you as soon as we got home. Bend you over the kitchen table and take you right there.”
Mark whimpers, hands moving between their bodies to unbutton Johnny’s shirt. His movements are clumsy, too caught up in the feeling of Johnny’s mouth against his skin to focus.
“You like that, baby? That’s a little slutty, isn’t it?”
“Your slut,” Mark chokes out as Johnny’s hand moves down to his crotch, squeezing.
“That’s right. My good boy, my slut.”
Johnny tosses his shirt to the floor once Mark has finished unbuttoning it. He makes quick work of Mark’s as well, and it joins Johnny’s on the floor.
Mark is already flushed and needy, and Johnny continues kissing his throat, going down to his chest. He takes a nipple between his teeth, tugging at it teasingly. His other hand is still at Mark’s crotch, palming him over the suit pants.
“Please,” Mark gasps, “More. I need more.” His hips meet Johnny’s hand, chasing friction.
“So needy for me already,” Johnny murmurs, “What if I want you to work for it?”
Johnny smiles against the skin of Mark’s chest when Mark lets out a desperate whine. He’s already so wound up, and Johnny loves it.
“I’ll do anything,” Mark says between pants, “Anything you want.”
“Anything, huh? How about you suck my cock like a good slut, and if you do well, I’ll fuck you?”
“Please.”
Johnny unbuttons his dress pants, taking them off together with his briefs, and letting his cock spring free, hard and aching. Well-trained as he is, Mark moves down to the floor next to the bed, kneeling with his mouth open.
Groaning, Johnny slaps his cock against Mark’s cheek a few times before letting him suckle on the head for a moment.
Mark’s tongue is soft and warm, licking at Johnny’s tip. He stares up at Johnny with big, desperate eyes as he takes Johnny’s cock deeper into his mouth. Johnny’s hand finds home in Mark’s hair, pulling until Mark’s nose hits his pelvis and his cock is all the way in Mark’s throat.
For a moment, Mark’s throat constricts before he regains control of his breathing.
Johnny starts to thrust slowly, setting a gentle pace. Mark keep perfectly still, hands in his lap but not touching, because Johnny hasn’t given him permission to.
“What a good little cocksucker you are for me, baby,” Johnny groans, thrusting harder. The sounds Mark’s throat makes are hotter than they have any right to be. Mark keens softly at the praise, squeezing his thighs together. “So desperate for me, aren’t you? You need Daddy to fuck you?”
Mark can’t do anything but whine, Johnny’s cock muffling the sound.
Johnny pulls out, leaving a trail of spit and precome running down Mark’s chin. He swipes it off with his fingers before stuffing them back into Mark’s mouth, petting his tongue.
“Pleath,” Mark begs, Johnny’s fingers still in his mouth.
Johnny lifts him up by his armpits, manhandling him back into bed, and Mark moans loudly at the treatment. He’s rock-hard. Johnny can see how he strains against the fabric of his pants.
Just because he can, and drunk on the power Mark so eagerly gives him, Johnny takes his time removing Mark’s pants.
“Oh, baby, you’re so wet,” Johnny murmurs in faux-surprise, “Did just having Daddy in your mouth make you this hard?”
“Yeah,” Mark moans, bucking his hips in an attempt to get Johnny to touch him more. “Need you, Daddy. Need you to fuck me.”
Johnny pulls Mark’s underwear off, fabric wet with precome. “You need it, huh? Do you deserve it? Have you been good?”
Mark falters. “I, uh-” Johnny gives him a look. “I’ve been good! Please give it to me.”
“ Good boy ,” Johnny praises, “What a good boy you are for telling Daddy.”
Mark is so needy already that it’s easy to prep him. His hole stretches around Johnny’s fingers like it was made for it, made to take whatever Johnny does to it. The thought makes Johnny groan out loud.
When Johnny pulls his fingers out in favor of slicking his cock up, Mark makes a move to turn onto his stomach, but Johnny places a hand on his hip.
“Stay like this. Daddy wants to see you.”
Mark’s hole is hot and tight around Johnny’s cock, but it allows him to push inside in one fell swoop, hitting Mark’s prostate immediately. Mark lets out a loud moan, choking out ah ah ah ’s each time Johnny grinds against it.
The pace Johnny sets is punishing, hips slapping against Mark’s ass and thighs with each thrust.
“Baby, god, you’re so good for me. Such a good little slut for Daddy,” Johnny moans, pushing Mark’s legs up, further towards his shoulders, and hovering over him. “Made for me to fuck.” The speed of his thrusts picks up. “Made for me to love .”
“Ah! Yes!” Mark chokes out, holding onto one of Johnny’s hands where it holds him up. “Made for you.”
“I’m close, baby. Gonna come inside you. Fill you up so well.” Mark keens, throwing his head back. “You want that? Want Daddy to come in you?”
“Please! Come in me!”
The hand not holding Mark’s finds Mark’s cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. Mark moans loudly, back bowing and hole clamping down on Johnny’s cock as he comes, cock spurting come all over his chest.
Johnny follows not long after, hips stuttering a final time before coming deep inside Mark’s hole.
Mark’s eyes are closed in bliss, chest still heaving. His lips are curled up into a small smile. Johnny presses a careful kiss to each of his eyelids, and Mark giggles, but doesn’t move.
Johnny pulls out slowly, laying down on his side, facing Mark, and holding Mark close to his chest.
“My good boy,” he murmurs against the crown of Mark’s head. “Always so good for me. Works so hard all the time. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.”
-
Mark gets the call while they’re on their way to a restaurant, ready to celebrate the success that had been the January concert. He’s exhausted, but in a surprisingly cheery mood, and they sing along to the radio in Johnny’s car.
Mark’s phone buzzes and Johnny lowers the volume for him to answer.
Johnny doesn’t know who’s called, but he sees the way Mark curls in on himself, shoulders tensing and head dropping. He sees the way tears form in his eyes. Mark’s voice breaks when he says goodbye.
Even when he puts his phone away, Mark doesn’t say anything. Johnny waits until they’re parked by the restaurant to ask.
“You okay, Markie? Who was that?” Johnny unbuckles their seat belts, turning to face Mark.
He doesn’t say anything for a while, before clearing his throat. “Ah, uh-” Mark swallows and Johnny reaches over to hold his hand. “It’s- My dad, he’s- My, my dad is dead.” Mark breaks down once he gets all the words out.
Johnny feels like he’s been punched. Fuck. Of all things that could have possibly happened. Today was supposed to be all about Mark. All about celebrating how hard Mark has worked, and how well he did at the concert. Johnny selfishly wishes that the call would have come tomorrow instead.
“Oh, baby,” Johnny breathes, “I’m so sorry. Let’s go home, yeah?”
Johnny is already pulling out of the parking lot by the time Mark voices a weak protest. “But- The reservation, what about the reservation?”
“Don’t worry about it, baby, I’ll call them. Just focus on breathing for now. Can you do that for me?”
He sees Mark nod out of the corner of his eye.
The car ride home is tense, and the air feels thick enough to cut. Mark doesn’t seem to register that they’re home until Johnny opens the car door for him.
Mark doesn’t say anything on the elevator ride up or when Johnny helps him take his shoes off. He heads straight into his bedroom, curling into a tight ball on top of the bed. A sob forces itself out of Mark, whose body jerks at the intensity of it. He gathers the turtle plushie and hugs it to his chest. For a moment, all Johnny can do is stand there.
He’s felt at a loss for words before, felt powerless to do anything, but nothing compares to this. Mark’s only parent, whom he loves so much, has just died. Mark’s piece-of-shit, abusive father, whom Mark hates, has just died.
Johnny lies down on his side next to Mark, gathering him in his arms. He doesn’t talk, just lets Mark sob into his chest. Words can’t fix this. Nothing can fix this.
Mark cries for what feels like hours, wetting the fabric of Johnny’s shirt. His face is red, and his eyes are swollen.
“My Markie,” Johnny murmurs, “I’ve got you. Hyung’s got you.”
“He- They said he-” Mark can’t get the words out properly. “He k-killed himself.”
Oh
Johnny hadn’t taken the time to consider how Mark’s father died. He just assumed that it was age or something to do with his health. Not this. Not Mark’s worst nightmare.
“I killed him, Johnny-hyung,” Mark sobs, fingers pulling at his own hair, scratching his scalp and down his face. Johnny takes his hands, holding them in his own. “It’s all my fault! I- He wanted me to visit. I, I should’ve-”
“Baby. Listen to me. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault, Markie.”
But Mark doesn’t listen. “He said- he said he needed me! I killed him. I killed my dad.”
The next day, they go to the funeral home Mark’s father had chosen. It’s a surprise in and of itself that he’d taken the time to choose one, given his history with letting Mark do everything for him. The staff there goes over when Mark’s father’s wishes were, all of which Mark already knows. His father talked a lot about his own death and funeral, it seems. He didn’t leave a suicide note behind.
Cremation. Small service. Ashes spread somewhere pretty. No gravestone.
Mark’s father leaves him everything.
They go to Mark’s childhood home a couple of days before the funeral to see the state of it. To Johnny, it looks run down. The garden is overgrown and the inside is dusty and filled to the brim with things. Mark doesn’t react.
“I think,” Mark says quietly, “I’ll just get a box of things from here, and then I’ll hire someone to deal with the rest.” He looks and sounds guilty as he says it, but Johnny thinks it’s the right thing to do. Nothing good will come out of Mark spending days cleaning this place up.
“That’s okay,” Johnny says, squeezing Mark’s hand. “I’ll call a service when we get back home.”
“I feel sick being here.”
Mark maneuvers around the crowded space with practiced ease, while Johnny struggles to step over the items littering the floor. Dust bunnies stick to his socks.
They start in the living room, where Mark takes his childhood Wii and puts it in the box. From a shelf on the wall, he plucks down a couple framed pictures. Some are from when he was a kid, and some from when his father was young. There are no pictures of Mark and his father together, or of Mark’s mother. In some pictures, someone has been scribbled out with black marker. Johnny assumes that’s Mark’s mother.
In the kitchen, Mark rummages through drawers, taking out some dishes from his late grandmother and his favorite bowls from when he was a child. The dining table is covered in a layer of dirt and grime. It doesn’t look like it’s been used in years. We never used to eat together , he remembers Mark saying, I ate in my room, and he ate in the living room .
Mark starts crying softly when they enter his childhood bedroom. It’s been kept the same since Mark moved out, waiting for him to come back. From the bookshelf, Mark takes a photo album, wiping the dust off of it. He takes a bright yellow, stuffed crab from where it’s sat on the bed, placing it gently in the box. Johnny remembers this crab from pictures. It’s Mark’s favorite.
Mark’s father’s bedroom is mostly empty, bed stripped, with the mattress leaning against one of the walls. It still smells lightly of chemicals. This is where he died , Johnny thinks. Mark seems to realize so, too, because he covers his mouth for a moment, swallowing like he’s about to throw up.
He makes quick work of rummaging through a wardrobe, pulling out a couple more photo albums.
“I’m done.”
The funeral is small, with Mark and Johnny being the only ones in attendance. It’s a bit eerie, being at a funeral with no one else there.
The priest says a few words before it’s Mark’s turn to speak. He steps up to the podium in a faded, too-small suit. He refused to wear his concert suit, and said it would be a waste of money to get a new one. I’m gonna throw it away after , Mark had said, I never want to see it after this .
“Dad,” Mark starts, “I tried to prepare what I was going to say, but everything was so jumbled up in my head. You hurt me so much. I’m so messed up because of you. How could you treat me like that? What did I ever do wrong? I only ever tried to be a good son.
“Still, no matter how badly you treated me, I have such a hard time resenting you. I should hate you for what you did to me. I can’t even count the amount of times I thought about cutting contact with you completely, and yet, I’m here. I’m here at your funeral. If I didn’t have Johnny, I’d be alone, too.
You drove away everyone in your life, and I’m the only one left. You knew I would never leave. I never argued and I never fought with you. I can’t stand up for myself, and I’m terrified of people. That’s your fault. You ruined me.
And just as I’m healing, you decide on one last wound to cause. I don’t know how I will live with the fact that you killed yourself.” Mark takes a second to breathe, wiping tears from his eyes.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you,” he says, “But I still wish for you to rest in peace. I hope you are not in pain anymore. Goodbye, dad.”
-
Johnny’s in the middle of a meeting with Elle when his phone rings for the first time. He checks who it is, and it’s an unknown number, so he declines the call, going back to looking at the moodboards presented by the shoot coordinators.
They’re doing an editorial for Lunar New Year, which makes Johnny feel right at home. As expected, there’s a lot of red and gold in the pictures being pinned to the meeting room white board.
Johnny’s phone buzzes insistingly in his pocket, the same number as before. He excuses himself, sighing as he leaves the room.
“Yes?” Johnny answers, somewhat impatient to get back to work. He promised Mark that he’d be back home early so that they could look through the childhood pictures he brought back from his dad’s house.
“Is this John Suh?” the voice on the line asks. He doesn’t recognize it.
“It is. Who is this?”
“I’m calling from Weill Cornell Medical Center on behalf of Mark Lee. It says here that you’re his emergency contact?” the woman says.
Johnny’s heart sinks. “Yes, I am. What’s happened to Mark? Is he okay?”
Johnny hurries back into the meeting room, grabbing his stuff and muttering emergency, before leaving.
“He’s stable. I believe he fainted on his way home, which lead to him falling down a set of stairs.”
“Okay, okay,” Johnny says, mostly to himself, “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in 5 minutes.”
Johnny isn’t a runner, but he sprints to the hospital, pushing past people until he gets to the front desk, where he gasps out Mark’s name.
Mark has his own room, which is a relief, but nothing could have prepared Johnny for what Mark looks like. He has a bandage wrapped around his head and his leg in a cast. A nasty bruise is forming from his right temple down his cheek.
Despite everything, Mark is awake when Johnny enters the room, looking at the door as it opens and smiling when he sees it’s Johnny.
“Mark,” Johnny breathes, a little choked, “Baby, oh my god. How are you feeling?”
“‘m okay. They gave me a lot of painkillers, so right now I don’t really feel much.”
Johnny drags a chair over, sitting down next to the hospital bed.
“They say I’ve got a concussion,” Mark says, “And my leg is broken.”
“Jesus, Mark,” Johnny sighs, concerned, hand combing through his hair and pushing it away from his forehead. “How did this even happen?”
“I don’t know,” Mark mumbles, fiddling with the scratchy hospital blanket. “I was just- I was on my way home and got really dizzy all of a sudden. Then everything just got dark. I think I fell down the stairs? I don’t remember anything after it going dark.”
Johnny can tell that Mark is getting antsy. “Did you forget to eat lunch?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know anything. Everything’s just blurry.” The dam finally bursts and tears start flowing steadily down Mark’s cheeks. He’s choking as he tries to breathe. “It’s just so much. Everything is too much! I can’t deal with this. I don’t know what to do!”
“Mark, baby, look at me,” Johnny says, taking Mark’s hands, “You’re panicking, baby. Let’s talk about something else for a second. Tell me about the new piece you’re gonna learn. Who’s the composer?”
“Rach- Rachmaninov,” Mark chokes out, “Piano Concerto No. 3 in D Minor, op. 30”
Johnny doesn’t know what half of those words mean, but he nods along as if he does. “Is it hard?”
“Uh, it’s not easy, but not as hard as Liszt. ‘m gonna play it for the graduation concert- if I manage to graduate, that is-”
“Of course you’re graduating! Not even a concussion and a broken leg can stop my Markie. Tell me more about the concert. Who else is playing?”
“‘s with the orchestra, they’re accompanying me. Renjun’s gonna have a solo too. I think they’re still deliberating about who else is getting a spot. It’s really competitive.”
“But you got one,” Johnny notes with a proud smile. Mark blushes, but nods. “My shining star.”
When Mark is finally discharged from the hospital a couple days later, Johnny helps him shower before getting into bed. Putting the plastic cover over his cast is difficult, and Mark is still a bit dizzy. They bought a plastic stool for him to sit on until he can stand properly. With Mark sitting on it, he’s the perfect height for Johnny to wash his hair.
Johnny helps him towel off and put on his sleep clothes, carrying him, despite Mark protesting that he can walk, to the bedroom.
With Mark in bed, Johnny heads to the kitchen to make them some sandwiches. Mark still doesn’t have an appetite, despite the doctors saying that he should be fine to eat by now. Johnny hopes that something small will be enough to get Mark to start eating properly again.
Looking back, Johnny realizes that Mark hasn’t had much of an appetite for a while. First with the stress of the concert, then his father’s death, and now this.
When Johnny finishes up in the kitchen and heads back to their bedroom, Mark’s head snaps up the moment he comes through the door. Mark chews on his bottom lip absentmindedly as Johnny puts the sandwiches down at the end of the bed.
Mark doesn’t say anything, just stares at the plates of food.
“Is something wrong, baby? Does your leg hurt? Johnny asks.
Mark shakes his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “It’s fine, I just- Never mind. It’s stupid.”
Johnny scoots over to grab one of Mark’s hands, holding it on both his own. “You know I never think anything you say is stupid. What’s bothering you?”
Mark has a hard time meeting his eyes. “Uh… Are you angry with me?”
Johnny’s eyebrows shoot up. That’s not what he expected.
“Of course not. Why would I be angry with you? Did I say something to make you think I was mad?”
“No!” Mark hurries, “It’s just… ugh- Your footsteps. They sounded angry.”
“My footsteps?”
“I know it’ll sound dumb-”
“It won’t,” Johnny interrupts. Mark shoots him an annoyed glare.
“It’s just. When my dad was angry. I could always tell from his footsteps. It wasn’t even just when he was angry. I could always tell what mood he was in. I guess your footsteps just sounded… angrier than usual?”
“Oh, Markie. I promise I’m not angry, I’m just tired, and it’s really hitting me now that we’re home again. I was so worried about you that I didn’t have time to relax, so that’s probably why I was stomping a bit more than usual.”
Mark lets out an apologetic sound. “I’m sorry for assuming you were mad.”
“Don’t worry about it, Markie. Stuff like that is hard to unlearn. Just know that if I’m ever angry, we’ll talk about it. You won’t have to figure it out by the sound of my footsteps.”
Mark finishes most of his sandwich before falling asleep. His mouth hangs opens slightly, and soft snores escape every couple of breaths.
-
Johnny wakes up to an empty bed the following morning. Mark’s side is cold already, but he hears the murmur of a voice coming from the living room. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes before getting out of bed, covering it with the comforter.
Mark is just getting off the phone when Johnny enters the living room. He looks up at Johnny with wide eyes. “Did I wake you up?” he asks.
Johnny shakes his head. “What are you doing up already? I thought you’d be sleeping in.”
Mark scratches the back of his neck. “I just called my jobs,” he starts, and Johnny wonders if this is going where he thinks it is, where he so desperately hopes it is, “I quit, hyung. I quit both of them.”
“You did?” Johnny breathes. He feels like he’s dreaming.
Mark nods, hesitant. “I just- with everything that’s happened recently. I don’t- I can’t do it anymore, not right now. I’ll, I’ll get a new one when I’m better-”
“Don’t even finish that sentence, Mark Lee,” Johnny interrupts. “No more working for you until after graduation.”
“But, hyung-”
“No buts!” Johnny sits down on the couch, hugging Mark to his chest. “I know it makes you anxious when you feel like you’re not contributing, but you’ll have plenty of time to contribute once you’re a famous soloist.” Mark slaps him on the arm. “Let me take care of you, baby. I’ve been so worried about you these last couple of weeks. Please, let me take care of you.”
Mark is silent for a moment, thinking. “Okay.” He turns to look up at Johnny. “Take care of me, hyung.”