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It starts with Jackson. And considering where it ends up, Jaebum really, truly, passionately hates that it starts with Jackson.
Jaebum could’ve sworn that when they made the bet, the penalty they agreed on was waxing their legs and nothing else — and yet, as soon as Jaebum loses, Jackson assures him that it had definitely been a full-body wax. Which is bullshit because no matter how competitive Jaebum is, he would never agree to a stranger handling his balls, especially not while Jackson is in the room.
But here he is — hot wax on his taint, Jackson Wang holding his hand, and death approaching.
“You know, hyung,” Jackson says, far too cheerfully considering a woman is flattening a waxing strip right below Jaebum’s balls, “maybe it’ll turn out well for you. Maybe Mark will like it!”
Jaebum is about to retort that his boyfriend’s opinion on his body hair is less important than the pain he’s about to experience, but the words twist into a strangled yelp in his throat as the waxing strip is torn off. It feels like the delicate skin of his nether regions went with it.
Bet or no, he’s going to murder Jackson.
Even when he’s cleaned up and dressed and sent on his way, he heads straight home to their apartment and curls up on his couch for a sulking session. It’s not like he even grows that much hair — how long is it going to take him to look like a grown man again? Is he doomed to a life of permanent prepubescence? Are his balls going to be naked forever?
He’s still brooding on the couch, trying to ignore how aware he is of his skin even now that he’s wearing pajama pants, when Mark comes home.
“Oh, man, I know that face.” Mark plops onto the couch next to him, sending a shiver through Jaebum when their knees brush. “What did Jackson do this time?”
Jaebum lets out an irritated huff before grumbling, “He ripped all my hair out.”
Mark blinks and cautiously pats the top of Jaebum's head. “Is this not...?”
“Not my head hair,” Jaebum clarifies, shaking him off. “My...everywhere else hair.”
Mark snorts. “And how did he manage that?”
Jaebum crosses his arms and scowls at the wall. “I lost a bet. But it's still his fault, I said it was just legs but he — ”
“He what?” Mark teases, hand falling to Jaebum's thigh and squeezing it lightly.
Jaebum's breath hitches in his throat, hyper-aware of the brush of fabric against his skin and the firm warmth of Mark's grip. “He — he made me do a full body wax,” he manages.
Mark frowns. “Does that mean your happy trail is gone?”
“That and everything else,” Jaebum replies, trying not to squirm when Mark doesn't move his hand. “I've been stripped, hyung. I look like a girl.”
Mark grins. “Cute.”
“I — ” Jaebum presses his lips together tightly, trying to ignore how warm his cheeks feel at the compliment. “No.”
“No?” Mark leans into him with a playful smile. When Jaebum simply continues to sulk, Mark sighs. “I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is. And it'll grow back, anyway.”
“I know it'll grow back,” Jaebum says. “But for now, I just look ridiculous.”
“Seriously, Jaebum-ah, I really doubt it looks bad.” His wraps his arms around Jaebum's waist and tugs him closer so he can rest his head on Jaebum's shoulder. “You're a good-looking guy, anyway. I doubt a little less hair is gonna change that.”
It would be easier, Jaebum thinks, if Mark didn't state things so plainly. If he sounded a little cheesier, a little more over-the-top with his praise, maybe it'd be easier for Jaebum to bluster and blow it off like he usually does. The way Mark compliments him feels so grounded, like it's something he believes so wholly that there's no point in playing it up. Like Jaebum being attractive is just a given.
Still, Jaebum scoffs and turns his face away. “You're just saying that because you haven't seen the damage.”
“Then let me see,” Mark replies easily.
Jaebum splutters. “I — that's not what I meant.”
“Are you planning on just hiding until it all grows back?” Mark raises his eyebrows. “You really wanna go without sex for weeks, Jaebum?”
Jaebum falters. “That's...not necessarily what I was thinking, no.”
“Then just show me,” Mark says, his hands slipping down until his fingers are teasing under the hem of Jaebum's shirt. He doesn't lift it yet, waiting for Jaebum's word. “May as well show me now and get it over with. It'll be like ripping off a band-aid.” His lips curl up into a grin. “Or a waxing strip.”
Jaebum winces. “No. No more waxing strips.”
Mark laughs, far too pleased with himself. “So, what do you say? You wanna show me?”
Jaebum heaves a put-upon sigh and lays himself back against the couch, head pillowed on the armrest. “Fine, but you can't laugh, okay?”
“Why would I?” Mark asks innocently, as if his favorite laughs aren't at the expense of others.
Jaebum doesn't deign to respond to that, instead roughly yanking the hem of his shirt up and exposing his completely smooth abdomen. “There. Are you happy?”
He isn't looking at Mark, staring instead at the ceiling and bracing himself for a burst of high-pitched laughter. He isn't expecting it when Mark lays his palm flat against the skin between his navel and his waistband, right where a narrow trail of hair used to be.
Jaebum's head jerks up off the armrest. “What are you doing?”
“Looking,” Mark says, eyes fixed on where he's touching Jaebum. “Can I see the rest?”
“The rest?”
Mark's hand drags down, warm and dry against Jaebum's sensitive skin, until his fingers can curl into the waistband of Jaebum's pajama pants. There's nothing underneath, nothing to separate the brush of Mark's knuckles from the space between Jaebum's hipbones, just above his soft cock.
But he isn't completely soft anymore, twitching slightly against his thigh in response to Mark's teasing touch. “Hyung,” he whispers, voice getting caught in his throat halfway through the syllable.
“Well?” Mark tilts his head. “Can I see?”
Jaebum swallows hard and dips his chin down in a nod. He feels painfully shy right now considering he's just letting his long-term boyfriend peel his ratty flannel pants off his legs. It's nothing new, just like countless other times Mark's come home from work, found Jaebum lounging around their apartment, and wanted to sink into him to forget the stress of the day.
But there's some strange edge to it that there's never been before, something fine and undefined that seems like it's wound its way around Jaebum's throat and left him breathless as Mark undresses him. He isn't sure, but he thinks it might be something in Mark's touch — as if he's being gentler with his movements, more careful with Jaebum. It makes even this simple act feel like something new, something that makes Jaebum's heart pound like he's being touched for the first time.
Mark tosses the pants onto the floor. A sharp remark about at least folding them rises in Jaebum's throat, but it dies when Mark's hands return to touching him. He's trying not to squirm, but it's hard when the sensation of Mark's hands slipping slowly down his thighs leaves his skin tingling and warm. That plus the way his gaze is so heavy, so intense that Jaebum swears he can feel it as surely as his hands, that’s enough on its own — but then Mark opens his mouth to talk.
“Jaebum-ah,” he murmurs, voice low and rough in that painfully intimate way he only uses in the bedroom. “You look....” He trails off, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips before he bites them, sharp teeth digging into their plushness. God, Jaebum wants to kiss him.
Jaebum arches up slightly, his thighs twitching apart just a bit. He's a little embarrassed by the fact that he's half-hard without even being touched, but at least Mark isn't faring any better, if the dusting of pink across his cheeks and collarbones is any indication.
Mark drags in a slow breath, his thumbs rubbing circles into the sensitive insides of Jaebum's thighs. “Can I eat you out?”
Jaebum's breath hitches in his throat. It's not something they do very often since Jaebum is nitpicky about hygiene, but every time they do, it leaves him a shaking mess, falling apart under Mark's talented mouth. The idea of that distinct type of pleasure, the wet give of an eager mouth, while his skin seems to magnify every touch — it's enough to have Jaebum throwing one leg over the back of the couch and nodding jerkily, his hand flying up to Mark's hair at the same time as Mark lowers his face between Jaebum's legs.
Mark's profile is even prettier pressed against the thickness of Jaebum's thighs. His mouth is wet and teasing and entirely overwhelming with how sensitive Jaebum is right now, already tensing and gasping even when Mark's just kissing up his thighs. He isn’t sure how he’s going to handle more, not when the drag of Mark’s tongue already has him shivering — but he guesses he’s about to find out.
Maybe, Jaebum thinks hazily as he knots his fingers tightly in Mark's hair, this waxing thing wasn't such a terrible loss after all.
Jaebum’s lips aren’t nearly as plush as Mark’s, but they’re almost annoyingly sensitive.
Mark knows this, of course. Jaebum thinks it’s a little strange, that someone with a mouth as pretty as Mark’s would be so fixated on Jaebum’s lips, but he can’t bring himself to question it — not when Mark’s tracing his cupid’s bow with a fingertip or nipping at his lower lip or rubbing the head of his cock along the seam of his mouth. Each touch Mark gives makes Jaebum weak in the knees, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
The aftermath of Mark’s attention isn’t quite as pleasant, though. When Mark gets a little too fixated, Jaebum is left with sore lips that he licks constantly for some relief.
Which would be fine, if some of his friends didn’t have such massive sticks up their asses.
Jinyoung stops dead in the middle of telling the story of whatever misadventure Jackson had distracted him with most recently to snap, “Can I help you?”
Jaebum blinks across the cafe table at him. “What?”
“You keep biting and licking your lips,” Jinyoung says, pointing an accusing finger at Jaebum’s mouth. “It’s obscene.”
Jaebum opens his mouth to respond and then thinks better of it. Trying to deny any lewdness to the action by bringing up how brutally Mark had fucked his mouth that morning in the shower would probably backfire on him. Jinyoung’s coffee still looks too hot for him to risk getting it thrown in his face.
“Just — ” Jinyoung keeps up a stream of exasperated grumbling as he digs through his bag, eventually resurfacing with a small tube of chapstick. “Take care of it. For Christ’s sake.”
Jaebum huffs out a noise of complaint, but takes it and obediently smears it across his lips. He won’t admit it to Jinyoung, but it’s soothing and exactly what he needed. He makes a mental note to pick some up later.
As he hands the tube back to Jinyoung, though, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the window. He picks up his spoon to look at himself more carefully and frowns. “Jinyoung-ah, what the hell — this is lipstick.”
“Excuse me?” Jinyoung puffs up slightly, his lips pushing out into a pout — just a bit too perfectly pink to be natural, now that Jaebum’s paying attention. “It’s not lipstick, it’s tinted chapstick. There’s a difference.”
Jaebum looks at his distorted reflection in the spoon again and stretches his lips into an unflattering expression. “I look like a clown.”
“It’s not my fault you don’t know where your lip line is,” Jinyoung mutters uncharitably. “At least you’ll stop slobbering all over yourself in public.”
Jaebum takes it in stride — Jinyoung's prickliness is part of his charm, and Jaebum knows by now when he's nitpicking for play. It’s easy enough to let it slide, especially now that his burning lips are calmed. In fact, Jaebum entirely forgets the exchange until he meets Mark at the metro stop so they can ride home together.
Mark raises his eyebrows as soon as he sees Jaebum. “I thought you were just getting coffee. Is there something else going on I need to know about?”
“What?” Jaebum asks, racking his brain for what Mark could be referring to.
Mark lifts his fingers to Jaebum’s lips — an echo of what he’d done that morning once he’d come across Jaebum’s face. A shiver runs through Jaebum and he automatically licks his lips, the tip of his tongue brushing against Mark’s fingertips.
“What’s this?” Mark asks.
“Oh, that.” Considering that the only point of contact between them is two of Mark’s fingers just barely brushing against his mouth, Jaebum is having an awfully hard time putting words together. “Just — I needed some chapstick because of this morning, you know, but all that Jinyoung had was tinted stuff. So, now I look like a clown.”
“Clown isn’t the word I’d use,” Mark replies. “It’s not that dark, anyway. Not like….” He presses down slightly, tugs at Jaebum’s lip in a way that makes him vividly remember why they’d been sore in the first place. “Not like if you wore real lipstick.”
And Jaebum — he’s never had a thing for lipstick before, not on himself or on anyone he’s been with. At least, not enough to make his mouth drop open just a tiny bit at the thought of it, like he’s inviting Mark inside.
Something flashes across Mark’s face, something sharp and heated. He drags his fingertips down, smears at the edge of Jaebum’s lips like he’s making a mess of him, and Jaebum is abruptly hit with the thought of what it might feel like with creamy pigment between their skin. Almost slick, maybe — but a little thicker, a little indulgent. A little lewd. Not as lewd as the head of Mark’s cock doing the smearing, though.
Jaebum swallows hard, his mouth watering. He sees Mark’s Adam’s apple bob too, and can’t help but be grateful that at least he isn’t in this alone.
“Let’s take this somewhere a little more private, yeah?” Mark murmurs.
Shame floods Jaebum’s cheeks with warmth at the reminder that they’re in public and yet he’d been thinking about getting Mark in his mouth for the second time today, not to mention —
He licks his lips. Feels how smooth, how plump they are. “You know,” he says slowly. “There’s...that CVS on the way back to the apartment.”
Mark frowns. “CVS?”
“They have — ” Jaebum hesitates, insides twisting and burning at the fact that he’s even thinking about suggesting this. “They…have a makeup section.”
Comprehension dawns on Mark’s face and he lets out a small huff of laughter. He lets his hand drift down so he’s gripping Jaebum’s jaw, rubs a thumb against Jaebum’s lower lip. People must be looking, Jaebum thinks hazily. And here they are talking about — this.
“Drugstore makeup will do for now,” Mark says decisively. “But later — I’m buying you something proper when we get the time.”
And that — that’s too much. There’s too much in that simple statement for Jaebum to process when Mark is toying with his lip so teasingly in front of everyone walking by. The idea of it being more than a one-time thing, the fact that Mark wants to pamper him with gifts, the fact that Mark thinks he deserves that —
Jaebum has to turn his head away, hissing a breath in through his teeth and avoiding the eyes of passerby.
When he musters up the courage to look back down into Mark’s face, his boyfriend is smiling wickedly. “Ready to go, then?”
Jaebum nods wordlessly, eagerly, and follows Mark’s lead.
It’s a throwaway comment this time, just a teasing remark that Jaebum’s mind latches onto and twists around refuses to let go. He thinks that might be the whole reason it hits him so hard. After all, if it’s coming from his own mind, then he can’t really run from it, can he?
You may as well be wearing a dress, Bambam had said. At least choose something with a little form if it’s going to be hanging to your knees.
And he had a point. The shorts Jaebum is wearing are an awkward mid-length that wouldn’t hit his knee if he pulled them up properly — and when he does, the baggy shirt that Bambam hates so much makes them practically disappear.
It’s something he usually just lounges around the apartment in. He hadn’t bothered changing out of just to have their closest friends over, but he should’ve known that someone would have a smartass comment. Jabs at his fashion anymore rarely get under his skin anymore, really. He keeps himself comfortable and that’s what matters.
So, why can’t he stop thinking about what Bambam said?
Trying not to think, he shoved his shorts down and kicks them away, leaving himself in nothing but the oversized shirt, his boxer briefs hidden underneath. A little form, Bambam had said.
Jaebum inhales slowly and tugs the fabric of the shirt back at the waist, cinching it behind him.
Objectively, he looks a little silly. Objectively, it’s just an oversized shirt, the same one he wears all the time, and there’s nothing new here, really.
But — objectivity doesn't have much to do with the shiver that runs through him at the sight of himself.
It doesn't have a proper form like Bambam probably intended, Jaebum thinks distantly even as he turns slightly this way and that. It's not the same, but — but if it was what he's imagining it is, it'd be awfully short. A miniskirt, really, and the thought makes his cheeks burn.
The image of himself in something — something real, something slinky and revealing pops into his mind. His fists clench tightly in his shirt.
He lets one hand slip down his front, ignoring his cock that's starting to fill out between his legs. Instead, he pushes his palms down the exposed skin of his thighs, tender and pale where no one usually sees. No one except Mark.
Jaebum swallows hard, watches his cock twitch through the thin fabric of his shirt when he thinks of his boyfriend's hands — gripping his thighs, sliding up his legs, pushing a skirt up around his hips —
The front door opens and swings shut and Jaebum's hands fly to a neutral position at his sides, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Jaebum-ah," Mark calls, and Jaebum can so easily imagine each of his motions — how he toes off his shoes and kicks them against the wall, how he shuffles into his house slippers, how he almost trips over the step up into their living room even after they've lived here for months.
He's so sure of everything about Mark at this point in their relationship, so why should he be hesitant about telling him about — this?
"They didn't have that one pepper dish you like." Mark's voice is getting closer, such a familiar sound in a familiar place. "So I got an extra serving of the noodles and — Jaebum?"
He probably looks a little ridiculous, standing there with no pants on in front of the mirror, frozen awkwardly as he catches Mark’s eye in the mirror. Still, it’d be easy to fumble for an explanation. Even if Mark teases, Jaebum can keep it distant, separated from this strange new thing that makes his mind buzz —
Or he could tell Mark. He could make it something they work out together. Like the several little tubes of lipstick that they keep in their bathroom drawer now, sure — but also like work schedules and sleep schedules, like date nights where Jaebum holds Mark’s hand even as he’s blushing, like Jaebum’s mile-long messages laden with sincerity.
He looks at Mark standing in the doorway to their bedroom and thinks that this — whatever it is can’t be scarier than moving in with someone for the first time. Or saying I love you. Or even plucking up the courage to ask out the boy who looked untouchable.
He looks at Mark, and somehow, despite his slim stature, he seems to make everything hanging over Jaebum’s head feel smaller and less daunting.
Jaebum bites his lip. Takes a breath. Turns to face Mark.
“I want to talk to you about something.”
Jaebum tries not to think about it too hard.
One of these discoveries on its own might have been possible to ignore. He could’ve dismissed it, maybe been into just the lipstick or just a cute outfit or just the feeling of his skin silky smooth beneath Mark’s touch. In isolation, each of the discoveries was a little strange, a little exciting, but nothing too overwhelming.
But all together? They start to feel like pieces of a puzzle slotting into place, painting an image of something bigger tying them all together. And then his mind starts finding the spaces in-between and fills them in with something more — and it shouldn’t be something he likes, something that makes his thighs squeeze together when he thinks on how they would or could go further, but it is and it makes him feel so — so —
He tries not to think about it any further. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen anyway.
Hell, it's almost all he thinks about sometimes, on the nights when Mark's a little playful, a little less his cute boyfriend and a little more a teasing hyung. On those nights, he can easily draw a blush from Jaebum with just a few words and a smirk that shows off his too-sharp teeth.
Mark is, in a word, chill. It's one of those defining characteristics that draws Jaebum to him so much, that laid-back air about him that's somehow sexy and warm and sweet all at once. It's what makes it easier for Jaebum to crawl into Mark's lap despite the niggling voice in the back of his mind telling him he's too big to be doing that. It's what makes it easier for him date a guy smaller than him, cuter than him, and still let him fuck Jaebum over the back of Mark's ratty corduroy couch.
It's what makes it easier for Jaebum to let the comfort settle around him all warm and easy like a haze of drunkenness, loosening his tongue and blurring the boundaries he’s set so strictly for himself before.
The next time it comes up isn’t during sex — it's right after. It's once Mark has shifted to the side, dealt with the condom, and let out a groan that slips down Jaebum's spine all hot and tingling like his tongue had been against his skin just moments ago.
It's not like last time, a somber confession in a lowered voice into the dim light of their bedroom. This time, it's a light, teasing slap against Jaebum's ass and Mark joking, “Was it good for you too, princess?”
Jaebum doesn't moan. The sound he makes doesn't have that much dignity or voice behind it. It's a little too airy, a little too small — if he's completely honest, the feeling of Mark's hand against his ass and the rumble of his voice saying that name makes Jaebum whimper, his face still half-buried in a pillow from getting fucked.
He freezes. Silence hangs between them, and Jaebum prays, he hopes against all hope, that Mark didn't hear, that it was muffled by the pillow, that he won't —
“Jaebum-ah.” The sheets rustle as Mark shifts closer. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Jaebum deflects, staring stubbornly down at the pillow he's clutching even as his cheeks flush.
“You know,” Mark says confidently, to-the-point as always. Damn him. He trails his fingertips lightly over the slight curve of Jaebum's ass, and Jaebum can’t tell if it makes him want to squirm because his skin is still hypersensitive from sex or because of the pet name that’s still echoing through his mind.
“Just — don’t worry about it,” Jaebum grumbles. “You slap a guy’s ass and expect him not to make a noise, seriously — ”
“It wasn’t just a noise,” Mark says, easily seeing through Jaebum’s blustering. “Are you like, into that?”
Just because Mark can see through him doesn’t mean Jaebum won’t keep trying to play dumb about it, though. “Into what?”
“You know.” Mark brings his hand down on Jaebum’s backside again, lightly enough that it’s more of a pat than anything. “Spanking?”
The relief hits Jaebum in a rush and he can’t stop himself from barking out a laugh. “No! What?” Well, he’s into it, but it’s neither as damning nor as much of a turn-on as what had actually affected him, which Mark doesn’t need to know, because — because he has all the pieces of the puzzle too. And as much as Jaebum trusts him with them, he doesn’t know if he’s quite ready to brave the cliff face before him. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be. So, for now, he keeps it light. “Spanking? Are you into that?”
“Sometimes,” Mark says with a shrug, just casual enough about it to make Jaebum do a double-take. “But if it wasn’t the spanking, then what was it?”
“I — nothing.” Jaebum’s mouth snaps shut. Fuck, why didn’t he just blame it on the spanking and let the conversation die? It’s not like he’d be averse to Mark’s pretty hands all over his ass, anyway — he’s essentially just walked right past a win-win situation and stumbled off the edge with no one but himself to blame.
“Well, it’s not nothing,” Mark points out. Jaebum can’t stand this about him sometimes, that he’s so stubborn and dogged and annoying when he sets his mind to it, in no small part because Jaebum wants to be the stubborn and dogged and annoying one in any relationship. “All I did was slap your ass and call you — ” His voice cuts off abruptly.
Jaebum buries his face in the pillow. The last thing he needs right now is to see Mark’s face. He nearly jumps out of his skin when something touches his ear and suddenly Mark’s voice is so close it feels like every word is melting into Jaebum’s skin.
“You liked it when I called you princess?”
Jaebum is more prepared for it this time, but that doesn’t mean the pet name doesn’t send a jolt of heat through his gut and make his spent cock twitch. Even though he tries to hide his reaction, Mark’s voice is cocky and knowing when he says, “You did, didn’t you? Princess?”
Jaebum smashes his face into the pillow so hard the bridge of his nose aches and he tries not to scream, the urge to punch Mark in the face and the urge to suck his dick warring inside him.
Mark is settling on top of him now, his weight warm against Jaebum’s back. His lips brush against the shell of Jaebum’s ear when he speaks again.
“Anything else, princess? How about...baby girl?”
“Jesus, hyung,” Jaebum chokes out. With the way Mark is pressed against him so fully, he knows he can feel the way Jaebum’s entire body just tensed.
“You like that?” Mark teases, and god, Jaebum can’t get hard again anytime soon, so why is pleasure still twisting in his gut like Mark has a direct line to his cock just through his voice? “And I don’t think that’s the word baby girls use to talk to their boyfriends.”
“Fucking — hyung,” Jaebum groans. “Shut up.”
Mark bursts into laughter then, loud and shrill and right in Jaebum’s ear. Jaebum shoves him off with a whine, but Mark keeps giggling even as his body hits the mattress and bounces with the force.
“Stop laughing!” Jaebum isn’t pouting. He really isn’t. “It’s not funny!”
“I mean, the princess and baby girl stuff isn’t funny,” Mark assures him. “You were just — I don’t know, it’s like I called you those things and you got all cute on me.”
“I’m not cute,” Jaebum insists.
“Sure thing, princess.” Mark smirks when Jaebum groans again. After a beat, his smile fades in favor of a more thoughtful expression. “You know I do mean that, right? That it’s not funny or…weird or anything.”
“It’s a little weird,” Jaebum mumbles.
“It really isn’t, though.” Mark thinks for a moment. “I’d probably let you pee on me if you asked, actually.”
“Fucking — what?” Jaebum nearly flails his way right off the edge of the bed as he rears back, fixing Mark with a horrified look. “Why would I ask? That’s unsanitary?”
Mark breaks down laughing again, curling in on himself so he and Jaebum are facing each other like a pair of matching parentheses. “You see, though?”
Jaebum glowers. “I don’t see anything except a pervert who likes to fuck with me.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Mark says cheerfully. “We’re both perverts. But what I mean is — it’s really not that weird, what you’re into. Not in the grand scheme of things.” He licks his lip and then bites it. “And I…kind of figured this might be where we were headed, anyway.”
And, of course, Mark isn't stupid. Of course, if he has the pieces he can put them together just as easily as Jaebum, because he's been beside him as he's uncovered each one. More than that, he knows Jaebum, and in a different way than Jaebum knows himself — in a way that makes him smile even as those pet names are on his pretty lips, even as Jaebum wants to squirm with shame and something else.
Jaebum hadn't been sure if he was ready to face the whole picture — but every time he'd turned the idea over in his mind, it had been himself alone. He'd only thought of giving Mark glimpses into it when he got comfortable with it (if he got comfortable with it), but in hindsight, it's never been Jaebum on his own carefully measuring out pieces of himself to give to Mark. They've grown together until every part of him feels like it's encompassed by Mark's care, just by virtue of being him — even the unknown.
Jaebum sighs. “I guess it's not too surprising after everything else, is it?”
“The lipstick already gave me a pretty good idea,” Mark agrees. “And then when we talked about the clothes, plus the whole waxing thing — ”
Warmth spreads across Jaebum's cheeks and he lets out a huff. “Yeah, all of that. Yes.”
Mark chuckles. “It's not that far of a stretch to assume you'd want to be treated like — ” He hesitates, eyes scanning Jaebum's face.
Jaebum swallows hard.
Mark licks his lips. “Like a girl, right?”
Jaebum's breath leaves his lungs in a shaky rush. “Yeah,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I mean, only in bed — but — ”
“Yeah, of course.” Mark shuffles closer until their knees bump and he reaches out. His hand runs down Jaebum's bare front, knuckles curling fondly against his stomach and rubbing in tiny, soothing circles. “It's all on your terms, anyway.”
Jaebum fumbles for Mark's hand, tangles their fingers together and holds them tight to himself. “I'm...nervous.”
“You don't have to be,” Mark says simply. “But it's okay if you are. We'll figure it out, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jaebum breathes. It's the same logic that had made him confide in Mark about wanting to wear something pretty — and just because this is something bigger doesn't mean they're any different, does it?
The nerves are still there, buzzing beneath his skin, but there's a new edge to them now. Anticipation starts to curl around it and Jaebum can't stop himself from letting out a tiny laugh, surprisingly light.
“We will.”
Jaebum doesn’t usually let Mark do too much for him.
It’s for a number of reasons. Some are logical, others not so much. He wants to keep things balanced, even when Jaebum's been handling his own expenses since he started school and Mark's never had to worry about money in his life. He loathes the idea of being a dead weight or a gold digger or even just a bad boyfriend.
In this case, though, it feels easier to let Mark take care of things and show him that it’s more than him just tolerating Jaebum or trying to play along. It’s easier to believe Mark wants it too when he paid for the clothes he’s wearing, held his hand through another waxing appointment, and applied a sweet coral pink carefully to Jaebum’s lips.
It’s also easier to believe when he steps into the bedroom and Mark’s eyes light up before his gaze grows darker, dragging slowly down Jaebum’s body like he’s savoring the sight. A tiny spark of confidence bursts in Jaebum’s chest at that, makes him stand up straighter and turn slightly on the spot to show off his outfit.
He’d felt a bit ridiculous when he’d first seen his reflection in the mirror. Schoolgirl isn’t an aesthetic that anyone has probably ever associated with him before. His stomach had knotted up nervously at the sight of the pleated navy skirt against his muscular thighs, the matching socks reaching just below his knees, the sailor-style collar emphasizing the breadth of his chest and shoulders.
Now, though, he feels…good. He feels like Mark wants him and specifically wants him like this — dolled up and painted pretty. He feels pretty.
Mark leans back on his hands where he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Come here, princess.”
Jaebum feels a little lightheaded as he approaches the bed. He topples over easily when Mark grabs him by the hip and tugs him down to sit on his lap, his side against Mark’s front.
Usually, their positions are reversed. When they’re out or even just hanging around the living room, Jaebum likes the feeling of Mark curled up against him, the reassuring weight of him. But this — this is nice.
Mark’s hand wraps around his hip, bunching up the fabric of the skirt and making it ride up just enough that Jaebum’s breath hitches. His thighs feel exposed and he can’t stop himself from squirming as Mark traces tiny circles along the newly revealed skin.
“You look so pretty,” Mark says, voice low and heavy. His fingertips dig into the meat of Jaebum’s thigh. “How do you feel?”
Jaebum tries to speak but no sound comes out, his throat feeling thick. He swallows hard and nods jerkily. “I feel — good.”
“Good?” Mark’s fingertips drift lazily up, pulling the skirt with him as he dips his fingers between Jaebum’s thighs. The breath leaves Jaebum’s lungs when he feels Mark rubbing against the white cotton of his panties, pressing in against his rim as if he could slip inside through them. “You must be feeling good since you’re so wet, baby girl.”
Jaebum’s fingers clench in Mark’s shirt. He can feel it — how the excessive amount of lube he’d fingered himself with before is now dripping and making his panties damp, how it makes the fabric drag against the sensitive skin.
He can’t think about anything else when Mark curls his fingers under the edge of the panties and tugs them to the side.
“Please,” Jaebum breathes.
“Please what?” Mark’s fingers slide easily over Jaebum’s rim, gliding wetly as he circles it. “What do you want?”
“Just — your fingers.” Jaebum tries not to shiver at the combination of shame and arousal that rushes through him.
“Yeah?” One of Mark’s fingers presses in, just enough to tease without satisfying.
Jaebum wriggles in his lap. The way his legs are slung over Mark’s thighs and he has to clutch at his neck and shoulders to keep his balance makes him feel strangely small, something he’s never really experienced before. “Come on,” he demands, trying not to give Mark the satisfaction of showing how frustrated he is.
But, of course, all he gets is a beatific smile from Mark, his fingers still teasing.
A tiny, exasperated noise rises in Jaebum’s throat, and the smirk he gets in return makes him want to shove Mark down onto the bed and take what he needs. He’s always such a tease at times like this, one of the times when the fact that he’s older feels palpable. It’s a little funny — even all prettied up, Jaebum can’t seem to shake his competitive streak, that deep-seated urge to resist letting Mark have the upper hand.
Jaebum bites his lip. He could try…something new. Something he hasn’t done before, something that makes his cheeks burn at the thought alone. But it just might work to get him what he wants.
He angles his hips back, suppressing a shudder as Mark’s finger dips into him shallowly. He buries his overheated face in Mark’s hair and nuzzles down to kiss clumsily at his ear. “Please…oppa.”
The word sounds strange from his own mouth in this context. He’s called himself this before when he was talking to younger girls, but never — never this. He’s never spoken to another man this way, let alone when he’s sitting on his lap and aching to get fingerfucked. The adrenaline rush from nerves alone is enough to have goosebumps rising on his skin.
Mark hisses in a breath and Jaebum thinks he hears the beginning of a curse before Mark turns his head and captures his lips in a bruising kiss, but he isn’t sure. His head feels like it’s buzzing, stuffed with cotton like he’s riding some new kind of high, and all he can process is physical sensation and Mark — the warmth of his body against him, his hard cock pressing against Jaebum’s thigh, his fingers finally pushing against his rim with purpose.
When two of Mark’s fingers sink into him, Jaebum chokes on a gasp. Mark uses the chance to lick greedily into his open mouth, kissing him deeply as his fingers slide into his hole.
Jaebum’s thighs flex and then squeeze together. There’s a strange contrast between how covered he is, fully clothed with Mark’s palm pressed against the fabric of the panties, and how Mark’s fingers move inside of him, wet and deep.
Mark pulls back and looks at Jaebum like he’s drunk on the sight of him. A shock runs through Jaebum’s gut as he realizes the pink smeared against Mark’s lips is from Jaebum’s makeup. “Is that what you wanted, baby girl?”
“Yes,” Jaebum gasps out, his fingers clenching and loosening in Mark’s shirt. “I — fuck.”
“You’re so wet, princess,” Mark murmurs. He’s picked up a rhythm, his fingers working into Jaebum with slick squelches that make him grateful he can hide his face. “So open and easy for me. Are you sure you don’t want more?”
Jaebum opens his mouth to respond and chokes on his words when Mark drives in hard, his knuckles pressing almost painfully against Jaebum’s taint. “F-fuck."
“What’s that?” To Jaebum’s horror, Mark pulls his fingers free and rubs at his rim again. They feel hot and wet against his skin from being knuckle-deep inside him, and Jaebum flushes with embarrassment. “Do you want more, baby?”
“Yes,” Jaebum manages this time. He feels so empty, clenching against Mark’s fingers with nothing inside. “I need — please.”
Mark’s hand slips away from his hole to slap his ass cheek, leaving slick marks. Sometimes, he’d said about being into spanking. God, he’s going to send Jaebum to an early grave. “Up.”
Jaebum scrambles to the side, sitting on the mattress since he doesn’t trust his wobbly knees to hold his weight standing. He’s so sure that Mark’s going to push him down, manhandle him into position and spread his thighs and fuck him right into the mattress with his panties pushed to the side —
So he doesn’t know what Mark wants when he scoots back so he’s fully on the bed and then lies down. Mark raises his eyebrows expectantly at him.
“Do you...want me to ride you?” Jaebum asks, shuffling closer on his knees and trying to ignore how messy he feels between his legs.
Mark chuckles. “Maybe in a bit. For now, though — ” He licks his lips, one of his dangerously sharp canines digging into his fat lower lip. He gestures toward his face. “Why don’t you take a seat up here?”
Oh. Oh.
Mark really is going to send Jaebum to an early grave. But god, what a way to go.
Jaebum clambers eagerly toward Mark but hesitates once he’s kneeling by his shoulder. “How should I — ?”
“Turn around,” Mark instructs. “And get on top.”
It’s a weirdly vulnerable position for all that he isn’t on the bottom, Jaebum thinks. His back is to Mark’s face so he can’t read his expressions, but Mark can see…everything. Even more so once Mark rucks Jaebum’s skirt up around his waist like he’d imagined before.
Jaebum can barely breathe when he feels Mark tug his panties to the side again. He feels so dirty, so exposed, like he needs to hide his face in his hands even when Mark can’t see it.
The first flick of Mark’s tongue against his rim is ticklish and light. Teasing, like Mark always is, until he’s anything but. He holds Jaebum tightly in place as he works at him with tiny kitten licks, just enough to have Jaebum clenching in anticipation and trying not to dig his nails into Mark’s front.
“Don’t — don’t tease me,” he pants. “God, hyung, please — ”
Mark mouths over to scrape his teeth down Jaebum’s cheek, blunt and aching with pressure. When he speaks, Jaebum swears he can feel his voice humming through him. “That’s not what you called me earlier.”
Jaebum lets out a noise between a whimper and a gasp. He knows he started this, but having the weight of Mark’s expectation behind it makes it even headier — like the honorific is something real, like Mark really is his — his —
“Oppa,” Jaebum chokes out. “God, please, oppa — ”
This time, Mark doesn’t tease. He presses his mouth fully against Jaebum and drags the flat of his tongue over his rim before pressing into the center.
Jaebum nearly falls forward at the feeling of Mark’s tongue working at his hole like he’s trying to fuck him with it. One of Mark’s arms has wrapped around the front of his hips, holding him back against Mark’s face so he can’t escape his attention. It all feels hot and humid, everything made lewd by Mark’s panting breaths against his ass and the slick heat of his mouth.
He can see Mark’s cock twitching in his pants in front of him and a thrill runs through him. Sure, his face is hot with embarrassment and his knees keep trying to squeeze shut around Mark’s ribs, but he did that. As much as Jaebum is getting off on it, he’s not alone.
Tentatively, he tilts his hips back. Mark’s moan in response is muffled, but definitely there. His fingernails dig into Jaebum’s hip, drawing a squeak from him before he starts rocking, tiny little thrusts back onto Mark’s tongue. He can feel everything like this — the push of Mark’s nose, the brush of his chin, and the soft but insistent way his tongue moves. It’s all overwhelming and has him leaking more in his panties, adding to how everything happening under his skirt feels wet and depraved.
It’s all overwhelming, but it still isn’t enough.
Jaebum gives in to the urge to lean forward, falling to his elbows as he comes face-to-face with Mark’s hard-on. His fingers are trembling and it takes him a couple tries to get Mark’s fly undone. When his cock is finally free, lying full and flushed against Mark’s abdomen, Jaebum feels his mouth water. He starts pressing breathless kisses to the head and down the shaft, his tongue just barely peeking out as he mouths clumsily at it, the skin velvety and burning hot against his lips.
Next time, he thinks, he wants to do this before he kisses Mark. That way, he’ll be able to see the lipstick marks on his cock.
Jaebum opens his mouth and laps at the precome beading in the slit, ready to sink his mouth down over the head — but Mark’s grabbing at his hips and waist, hauling him back and off his cock.
“Jesus fuck,” Mark grits out, pushing himself back so he’s out from underneath Jaebum. “God, Jaebum, you’re gonna kill me.”
Pride swells inside Jaebum, but he doesn’t get a chance to revel in it. Before he knows it, Mark is leaning back against the headboard and patting his lap in a way that should probably be innocent but feels distinctly dirty. “Get over here, baby.”
Jaebum doesn’t want to admit how eager he is as he goes to swing a leg over Mark’s thighs. He turns his back toward Mark, the same as before, when Mark slots two fingers into the tight waistband of the skirt to tug him to a halt.
“I want to see your face.”
And Jaebum can’t deny him. Not when Mark’s looking at him through half-lidded eyes and his mouth is red and slick from eating Jaebum out.
So, he wraps his arms around Mark’s neck and straddles his lap. When he settles his weight, Mark’s length presses against his panties where they’re damp and they both hiss in breaths through their teeth.
Mark’s still trying to keep it together even though Jaebum knows his tells very well by now. He can see the subtle flexing of his jaw, the way his chest hitches as he tries not to groan. If he’s honest, this is Jaebum’s favorite part — watching Mark tip closer and closer to letting go.
Jaebum leans over, grabs the lube off their nightstand, and hastily squirts some out into his hand so he can slick Mark up. He feels heavy in Jaebum’s grip, twitching and thick, and Jaebum licks his lips.
Mark drags him higher up on his lap, manhandling him with strength at odds with his wiry frame. His hands are eager now, his control fraying, and he pulls the panties to the side so harshly that the edge of them digs into Jaebum’s skin.
A mindless plea rises to Jaebum’s lips, but before he can say anything, Mark guides the head of his cock to his rim. All he can do now is sink down onto him with a sated whimper.
Jaebum tries to keep his eyes open through the stretch and the fullness, if only so he can watch how Mark’s brow furrows and his mouth drops open.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Mark groans. He grinds his hips up and Jaebum nearly chokes at how he can feel Mark filling him up and sliding against his walls.
Jaebum lifts himself before dropping back down, a tiny moan falling from his lips. He feels like he’s burning up from the inside — from Mark’s cock stretching him open and stuffing him full, from his nails digging into Jaebum’s hips, from the shame still simmering in his veins every time the skirt brushes his thighs. He does it again and watches Mark bite into his lower lip — again and Mark throws his head back — again and Mark’s grip on his ass becomes punishing —
Jaebum has to hold back a whine when Mark starts controlling the rhythm of his hips for him. His pretty fingers are bruising as they guide Jaebum up and down his length, pushing the pace until Jaebum’s thighs are shaking with the effort.
He can feel himself trapped in the panties, leaking all over them as he bounces, and he wonders hazily if he’s going to come like this with nothing but Mark ramming into him and cotton rubbing against his swollen cock —
“You’re so good for me, baby girl,” Mark breathes, voice uneven with exertion. “So fucking pretty — ”
The praise and the pet name make Jaebum claw at Mark’s back and shoulders, head swimming and gut twisting. Distantly, he hears himself keening, panting, whining — “God, please — wanna — oppa — ”
Mark curses and then he’s kissing Jaebum sloppily, a sharp canine scraping along his lower lip and making it sting. It’s graceless and demanding as if Jaebum’s broken his self-control with just a word.
Jaebum can’t keep up with the kiss when Mark’s hips snap upward. He gasps into Mark’s open mouth at the feeling of his cock shoving inside up to the hilt, more forceful than when he’d been riding him. It’s all he can do to hold on as Mark starts fucking him so hard that their skin slaps together, wet with the lube leaking out of Jaebum’s hole and down his thighs, the panties a soaked mess.
Mark mouths down his jaw, nipping at his ear and dragging the lobe between his teeth before grunting, “You wanna come like this, princess? Wanna come from getting fucked?”
“Fuck,” Jaebum whimpers. Like this, he can’t focus on anything but Mark’s cock splitting him open.
Mark’s right — he’s close already. He’s teetering right on the edge just from getting fucked, something he’s only managed a few times before, but this feels inevitable, maybe even necessary. He wants this, wants Mark to fuck his come right out of him while he squirms in his lap in a pretty uniform — no, he needs it — just a bit more, just something —
He doesn’t expect it when Mark pauses in his thrusts just long enough to tip him back onto the mattress and push his knees nearly up to his ears. He only has half a second to be grateful for his own flexibility before his eyes are rolling back in his head as Mark starts to fuck him again at a brutal pace.
“Oh, Jesus.” Jaebum’s hand slaps out at the bedspread like he’s grasping for something to tether him. He can’t think, almost can’t breathe with this new angle.
Mark’s cock isn’t reaching nearly as deep as when Jaebum had been in his lap, but it keeps brushing against his prostate with each stroke. Jaebum looks down at his stomach where his skirt is flipped up, hiding absolutely nothing. He can see his cock, the head sprung free from the panties, can see the precome dribbling out of his slit each time Mark rams into him.
Jaebum tries to arch up into Mark’s thrusts, but he’s pinned in place by the hands holding his thighs up, pressing him down into the mattress as Mark fucks into him so hard that Jaebum swears his hipbones will leave bruises. All Jaebum can do is moan and take it, caught somewhere between overstimulated and desperate for more.
“I’m — close,” Jaebum barely gets out, his voice broken and thin between his gasps for breath. “God, Mark — oppa — ”
The warmth he’d felt flush through him the first time he said it is nothing compared to how the feeling rages through him now, arousal and shame and the sense that he’s doing something illicit all searing and dizzyingly sexy at the same time.
The way Mark always seems to unravel just that bit further just adds fuel to the fire. He’s panting harshly now, pink staining his cheeks and a droplet of sweat trailing down his fine neck. His hips never falter — if anything, he’s fucking Jaebum more ruthlessly, like he wants to imprint himself inside him, like he wants it to hurt in the best way.
Jaebum clenches around him and is rewarded with Mark’s eyes fluttering shut as he spits out a curse. He falls onto his elbows, grinding his cock deep inside and driving a choked, pitiful mewl out of Jaebum.
Mark leans over him, their noses brushing and their breath humid and hot between them, and teases, “You’re close, huh?”
“Yes,” Jaebum rasps out, writhing and squirming on Mark’s cock.
Mark smirks, devilishly handsome even like this. “Cute.”
“Mark.” Jaebum tries to hide his face in his hands, but Mark grabs them and pins them over his head.
Their fingers intertwine and Jaebum’s grip is almost crushing, like Mark is grounding him, like he’s a conduit for how much Jaebum is feeling. Mark takes it in stride, holding his hands and fucking him like he’s trying to break him, and Jaebum doesn’t know how to handle it. He doesn’t know if he can, feels like he’s about to explode, feels too hot and full and tight like the uniform stretched over his muscular frame.
And then Mark groans, deep and rough, and it shoots right to Jaebum’s cock. There’s so much precome now, slick and shining on his perfectly smooth skin. Combined with the obscene squelch every time Mark fucks into him, Jaebum feels like an absolute mess.
“You’re so wet, baby girl.” Mark’s voice is low, quiet and throaty and masculine. Jaebum thinks it might be part of why what he says next is so devastating. “Are you gonna come just from my cock in your pussy, baby?”
The air leaves Jaebum’s lungs in a broken noise and his entire body shudders. He’s been on edge, and hearing that doesn’t tip him over so much as shove him. The pleasure hits him so hard that he can’t form words, mouth working around tiny hiccuping groans and gasps that get stuck in his throat and sound like they’re coming from someone else.
His cock jumps in the panties with each spurt of come up his abs. It’s messy, everything is so messy and sloppy and wet — the uniform sticking to his skin with sweat, the underside of his skirt stained with his own come, the panties practically translucent with how wet they are — and it only seems to draw his orgasm out longer. He clenches around Mark’s girth as each wave crashes over him, and it makes him feel small and full and used.
Mark lets out a wounded noise, his hips jerking forward unevenly. It’s too much sensation as Jaebum starts to come down and everything starts to tip into oversensitivity.
But it’s still good, just in a different way. It’s bright and sharp and makes Jaebum squirm and wriggle and gasp. He’s spent, but there’s still something he wants, something he needs to feel fully satisfied.
Mark is fucking into him wildly now. He lets go of Jaebum’s hands to push at the backs of his thighs until he’s practically curled in on himself, bent double as his own come runs up his stomach.
“You want me to come in you, baby girl?” Mark pants. “Want me to fill you up?”
Jaebum moans weakly, body and mind reeling. Each drive of Mark’s cock into him feels like too much, but he still reaches down and spreads himself wider.
“Come in me,” he gasps out. He knows what he wants to say next, but he has to close his eyes and turn his face before he can whisper, “In my — pussy.”
“Fucking Christ — ” Mark slams forward and lets out a pained, guttural groan as he comes deep inside, hips jerking and eyes falling shut.
Jaebum mewls at the feeling of Mark pumping his come into him and reaches up to wrap his arms desperately around his neck. He presses his lips to Mark’s open mouth in something that’s just barely a kiss, suckles at his plush bottom lip, savors the feeling of Mark in him and around him.
Mark kisses artlessly at his chin and neck as he comes down, harsh exhales warm against Jaebum’s skin. When his soft cock slips out, his fingers are there to replace it, teasing at Jaebum’s rim and playing with his own come.
“Such a good baby,” Mark murmurs. It sends a final shiver through Jaebum’s body.
Mark tugs the panties back over his hole to cover him, and it feels more indecent than anything else they’ve done when lube and come start to drip from his hole and soak through the panties.
Jaebum tugs Mark down on top of him, hiding his face in his neck. Now that the moment has passed or at least settled somewhat, he can’t stop some embarrassment from seeping in. But it doesn’t outshine the warm contentedness that blossoms in his chest when Mark chuckles warmly and rearranges their bodies so they’re both lying on their sides. He knows without asking to shift himself up slightly so Jaebum can burrow into the crook of his neck even with their height difference.
“We need to get you out of these things,” Mark murmurs, toying with the collar of Jaebum’s shirt.
Jaebum shakes his head, still hiding. “Not yet.”
He hears Mark’s breath catch as if he’s about to say something and then thinks better of it. Instead, he sighs, his hand coming up to pet the short hair at the nape of Jaebum’s neck. Even after all they’ve done, this feels warm and intimate in a way that has Jaebum melting into the mattress with heavy eyelids.
“You know, we’re gonna have to get you clean at some point,” Mark points out, but he doesn’t sound forceful at all.
“I know,” Jaebum replies. “Just…stay for a minute.”
“Just a minute,” Mark allows, but they both know he doesn’t mean it. They both know that he’d do anything for Jaebum — obviously, considering how they’re physically tangled up in the sticky reminder of just how far Mark would go for him.
Gratitude wells up in Jaebum’s chest, making his throat tight for a moment. “Thank you,” he whispers. “For doing this with me.”
There are other things Jaebum could say. But really, they’ve said plenty already just to get to this point.
He feels Mark’s lips brush against his hair. “Thanks for sharing it with me.”
And that — it’s enough. It’s them. There are other things either of them could say — there always are — but this is exactly what Jaebum needs to hear, nothing more and nothing less. And Mark knows that. Of course, he does.
And this whole thing may have started accidentally or just outright strangely, but in the end, it circles back around to Jaebum and Mark.
It always does.