Archive of Our Own

…

Salt air, and the rust on your door

I never needed anything more

…

The community center always had the AC blasting too strong.

Mark forgot that every year when the end of May rolled around all of the summer staff for the town had to gather in a mildly dilapidated ballroom here, knocking around squeaky folding chairs and chowing down all the snacks provided. Goosebumps were spreading over his forearms and thighs, he could feel his nipples poking through his t-shirt, and the iced tea he’d grabbed from Dunkin on the way there wasn’t helping matters, just leaving a wet ring of condensation on the fake-wood laminate table.

“Hey, man!”

Mark would know that voice anywhere. He immediately perked up, shooting up straight in his metal folding chair with a loud creak. A large hand clapped down on his shoulder, shaking him slightly. There’s no way the palm was actually that hot, but Mark felt like it was burning through the shirt, making his neck and cheeks flush red.

“Johnny!” he responded, and tried his damndest not to make it a squeak. “Hi! You’re back!”

“Yep,” the older boy sighed, and Mark whipped his head around to look up at him. His jaw nearly dropped, his fingers tightening in his cargo shorts to get a grip on reality. Holy fuck. Mark had never seen his hair this long – except in Instagram photos. They did no justice to real-life Johnny, whose strands of glossy hair curled around his neck, glancing off his chin and framing the angles of his face. “Last hurrah for me. Off to a big-boy job in the fall.”

“Oh, wow. Congrats,” Mark told him sincerely, holding his hand up for a high-five-hand-shake. Johnny completed the gesture, smiling crookedly. Mark’s heart fluttered. God, he had been hoping that this summer his ridiculous crush would finally disappear – he was a proper adult now, had been since last August, and thought that maybe being legal to vote would cure him of childhood infatuations. 

No such luck. Not with Johnny looking like this. He was already tan, his hair a kind of chestnut brown that Mark craved to see beneath sunlight. He had that thought last summer, when Johnny was bleach blond, that he had been devastating, but this. This was another level. Johnny looked so cozy, with the folds of his sweatshirt (of course Johnny remembered to bring a sweatshirt; of course Johnny remembered how cold the community center always was) softening the breadth of his shoulders.

“Where you off to for college, Mark Lee?” Johnny asked him, flopping down in the chair beside him. Then, he shot him a sideways glance, suddenly dead serious. Mark swallowed. “Wait – …you did graduate, right?”

“Shut up, man,” Mark laughed, throwing his head back and pushing at Johnny’s arm. He was trying not to act like every girl with a crush he’d ever seen all over Johnny and failing miserably. But Johnny was smiling back, crinkling his eyes. “Yes, I graduated. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t. You would have to visit my grave, because my parents would’ve put me six feet under.”

“Sounds about right,” Johnny chuckled, hiding a yawn behind his hand and running his fingers through his hair. “No, really. Where you off to for school, Markie-Mark?”

Mark wished the dumb, childish nickname didn’t make him feel simultaneously two-feet tall and like an excited puppy.

“UCLA,” he bobbed his head, tapping his foot. Johnny whistled lowly, making more than a few heads turn towards their table. That always happened when Johnny was around. People gravitated towards him. Mark had no doubt that their table would be crowded soon, people dragging over metal chairs to be able to sit in the same place as Johnny. Mark didn’t blame them. He was no better, after all, just as hopelessly caught up in the older boy’s orbit as everyone else.

“Damn, Mark,” Johnny nodded, clearly impressed. He held up his hand, and Mark slapped him five – just like he used to after winning a race, five years back when Johnny was just his swim coach who he had a massive schoolboy crush on, not his supervisor/work-friend. “Impressive. Seriously.”

“Ah, thanks,” Mark ducked his head, trying to will away his blush. At least that one could have been written off as modesty. Johnny patted his shoulder again.

“Off to the big city,” he mused, biting his lip against an obvious grin. “Following in my footsteps, I see.”

“Yeah, but you’ll notice that I’m headed off to the west coast,” Mark retorted, reveling in this opportunity for mutual ribbing. “And you went out to a cornfield.”

“Yo, Chicago is not a cornfield!” Johnny protested, snorting despite himself. “And it’s a great city! Don’t knock Chi-town, bro, you gotta see it for yourself.”

“I know, I know,” Mark agreed, trying to smile at Johnny without looking too lovestruck. He had a sneaking suspicion he was failing. “Just playing, man.”

“So what are you planning to major in, lil dude?” Johnny snapped his gum between his molars and folded his hands behind his head, looking for all the world like he was chilling on his couch and not at a work event.

“Oh, um, music prod,” Mark chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, what did you major in, hyung?”

He already knew the answer. Communications. But Johnny had never told him that, it was just a fact Mark knew about him – gleaned from listening in on his conversations with their other coworkers. It would be weird if Mark admitted that he knew what Johnny’s major had been. Weird that he still remembered it, a full nine months since he last saw the older boy. But Johnny didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, I was Comm! The easy route, hah!” Johnny laughed at his little self-deprecating joke, a warm sound that made Mark want to lean over the table, get in closer. 

“Well, you did get a real-person job right after graduation,” Mark tried to joke back, voice not entirely steady. “Probably got a leg up over me, haha.”

“You’re right,” Johnny grinned at him and waggled an eyebrow, hooking his foot up onto an empty folding chair to stretch his right leg. Mark tried desperately not to let his eyes trace up the length of that limb, looking impossibly long in baggy jeans. “Guess there’s something to be said about the easy road, huh?” 

“Sure.” 

Mark let the silence hang in the air for an uncomfortably long moment. He’d never really spoken for this long with Johnny one-on-one. They were usually surrounded by other people who could offset Mark’s awkwardness. Speaking of which, Mark noticed with relief, he spotted Jaehyun coming their way over Johnny’s shoulder.

“We’re almost always on sched together,” Johnny informed him, wiggling his foot to roll his ankle. “I would know, since I made it. Gonna be seeing a lot of each other this season, Markie-Mark!” 

“Oh, cool,” Mark nodded his head again, feeling like a bobble head. He met Johnny’s hand to give him another high-five, tried not to think about how his palms were clammy with nervous sweat. “It’ll be a fun summer, for sure. Always is, haha.”

“You have no idea,” Johnny told him. Mark couldn’t parse the smirk curling the older boy’s mouth, or why his eyes suddenly seemed way too dark under the shitty fluorescent lights – but he smiled back anyways.

🌊 🌊 🌊

By Mark's estimation, being a manager was a pretty sweet deal. You basically just laid out on a chaise lounge and worked on your tan all day, and hopped in the water when it got too hot. Like, sure, you had to do more paperwork, and deal with the super angry patrons, and oversee drills, but still – Mark wanted to be made manager next summer. Going off Johnny's example, it was the easiest job in the damn place.

Honestly, training day was one of the few times the managers actually had to do work – running the recertification tests, overseeing the set-up (and, in Johnny’s case, doing a lot of the heavy lifting with the 10-feet tall guard chairs), giving a comprehensive tour of the facility for the newbies and explaining the many, many procedures, and all their requisite paperwork.

Mark was sticky with sweat by the time the mid-day break rolled around, wiping his forehead with the hem of his shirt and groaning gratefully as he stepped into the shade of the men's locker room.

"I cannot wait to run drills in the water when we get back," Mark complained to Jisung. He noticed that one of the new guards, Sungchan, turned his head nervously and hunched even further over his bag. Mark looked at him, slightly worried, before continuing talking to Jisung, just a bit louder. 

"It'll be so nice to cool off, it's fucking hot. And they're always a laugh. We get to choose our own partners then splash around, basically. Fair warning, don't pick Jaemin – he is such an asshole about his fake drowning, for real."

"Didn't he nearly bruise your ribs your first summer?" Johnny cut in with a slight chuckle, smirking at Mark. Mark flushed slightly. Great. So cool that Johnny was recalling that humiliating memory. "I thought we were gonna have a real save on our hands, he went so hard during that attack drill."

"And that," Mark muttered mutinously, "is why we will never be partners again. Jeno can deal with his dramatic ass."

Sungchan slipped out of the locker room as unobtrusively as someone pushing 6'2" could manage. Mark watched him leave with a slight grimace. Well, that probably hadn't made the new hire feel any better. Great.

Maybe Mark wasn't cut out for manager after all.

He couldn't worry too much about that, though, because Johnny was leaning right beside Mark's locker, lingering even though he'd already grabbed his wallet, keys and phone. Jisung was still in the locker room with them too, tapping idly at his phone and presumably waiting for Chenle to come pick him up (in his Porsche convertible, because it was summertime) to grab lunch together. Mark smiled at him and was granted a small one in response. 

Johnny pulled his attention back quickly, though, tapping him on the shoulder as he asked,“What are you doin’ for lunch, Markie? Wanna come grab something with me?”

“Oh! Well, actually, um. I mean… sure?” Mark winced internally. Why had he made that sound like a question? Johnny was asking him out for lunch, of course he would go! The older boy raised an eyebrow at Mark’s answer. Mark cleared his throat, and regrouped.

“I was just gonna grab Panera with Jeno and Jaemin, but like–” Mark waved dismissively. “You know what they’re like. I mean, any excuse to not be the thirdwheel with them, really. And I don’t even like Panera that much.”

“Darn,” Johnny snapped in fake disappointment. “That’s exactly where I was headed.”

Mark was proud of himself for picking up on the sarcasm, this time.

“Haha, very funny,” he said dryly, shoving at Johnny’s shoulder. “I’m good with pretty much anything, dude, to be honest.”

“Wanna hit up Ted’s, then?” Johnny asked, naming the diner closest to the pool. Mark nodded enthusiastically.

“Yo, their fries are so fucking good,” he gushed, digging his wallet and phone out of his bag. “I’ll follow you out, lemme just tell Jeno and Jaemin real quick.”

Johnny saluted him lazily and ambled out of the locker room. Mark’s eyes followed him out. It was only after he blinked a few times when Johnny had disappeared from view, turning back around to grab his shit, that he noticed Jisung staring at him. There was an odd look on his face, something considering. Mark quirked an eyebrow at the younger but got nothing but a shrug as Jisung went back to his phone. A bit too distracted by that look, Mark’s grip on his phone slackened, clattering to the ground.

“Fuck!” he cursed, but upon picking it up the screen was fine, not cracked and lighting up when he pressed the ‘lock’ button. “Thank fucking god.” 

He scrambled out the door, looking around frantically for Jeno and Jaemin. He didn’t want to make Johnny wait any longer, it would be so rude… Luckily, Jeno and Jaemin were easy to catch, loitering just outside the guard house.

“Hey, guys!” Mark called. Jeno perked up.

“Mark!” he said happily. They’d been separated all morning, both of them head guards and assigned to help lead different groups as they rotated through all the stations. “You ready to go, man?”

“Ah, yeah, so actually...” Mark scratched the back of his head, then gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’m gonna grab a bite with Johnny today, actually. Sorry. I’ll see you guys tomorrow at Hyuckie’s though, right?”

“You’re gonna ditch us to eat with fucking Johnny?” Jaemin whispered furiously, narrowing his eyes at Mark. Mark’s own eyebrows shot up with confusion.

“Sorry? But yeah,” he said, backing away cautiously. “And what’s with the tone? Johnny is cool, dude.”

Jaemin damn near hissed at him, which just hastened Mark’s retreat. Jeno smiled down at his boyfriend with quiet amusement. He put a steadying hand on his shoulder, making Jaemin melt into his side just slightly. Jeno shot Mark a supportive thumbs-up as he dragged his boyfriend away, and Mark gave him some jaunty finger-guns in return.

Mark shook his head as he made his way over to Johnny’s familiar dark blue Crosstrek, where the tall man was leaning up against the side, waiting for him. Mark was never going to understand all the whims of Jaemin Na, and long ago had he given up trying.

“You ready?” Johnny asked him, unlocking his car and sliding in gracefully. Mark threw open the passenger door and tried not to wince at the wall of trapped heat that promptly slapped him in the face.

“So ready.”

…

“So, how long you and Yeri been together?” Johnny asked, idly texting someone back and sucking water noisily through his straw. Mark fumbled with the last bite of his sandwich half, scrunching his brow and blinking at Johnny.

“Huh?”

“You two are dating, right? How long’s it been?” Johnny seemed a bit confused at Mark’s confusion. Had he and Yeri like, said something that would make Johnny think they were…? Johnny clarified. “I saw your guys’ insta posts this past year.”

“Oh.”

Not that it, like, mattered, or anything, but Mark did want Johnny to know he was single. Only because, like, he didn’t want Johnny to have the wrong impression about his employees, or anything! He and Yeri worked a lot of the same shifts this season. “No, we’re not dating. We kinda were for a couple months, but like. It wasn’t really a thing.”

“Kinda?” Johnny raised his eyebrows and laughed lightly. “Care to explain that? Or was your Facebook status just ‘it’s complicated’?”

Mark gave Johnny a sidelong glance, and considered his next words carefully. He was very aware that Yeri was Johnny’s employee – that she knew him the same way Mark did; which wasn’t all that well, to be completely honest. He wasn’t gonna go spilling their business to someone in a position of (however limited) power over her, even ifhe was fine with Johnny knowing about it.

The truth was that he and Yeri hadn’t actually dated. They’d just fucked a few times, and were close friends. The posts on Instagram were jokes half the time, just genuine photos of friends doing shit together that she and Mark would’ve put up even without the “dating” shtick. That only came about because Jeno and Jaemin had run across them hooking up in an empty bedroom at some party, and promptly gleefully spilled the beans to all their friends, the bastards. No one would let them forget it – they wouldn’t shut up about Mark and Yeri being in love. It was half a joke, but their entire grade seemed to think they were an item anyways. They pretended to give it a shot. It wasn’t much different from them hanging out as friends, except it was more one-on-one time than with a group. That’d been cool, because it gave them the chance to get a little closer. Mark trusted Yeri more than nearly anyone, bar Donghyuck and Renjun, maybe. And it had given them more opportunities to hook up, which was awesome. Mark would gladly take an orgasm caused by someone other than his right hand, any day.

It’d been nice, mainly, to hook up with someone he hadn’t been incredibly anxious about impressing. Yeri had literally seen him vomit up Gatorade over the pool deck after he went too hard on a set; there wasn’t much worse he could do to embarrass himself. His first time had been with his ex-girlfriend, who’d he’d dated a little over a year, and it had been a fumbling mess of Mark being absolutely sure he was doing everything wrong and having no idea where to put his hands. It definitely helped that Yeri was bossy enough to tell Mark exactly where to put his hands, and his mouth, and what to do with them once they were there.

It had ended when someone from the next town over caught Yeri’s eye when she’d shown up to support the boy’s swim team at their meet versus the rival school. They’d easily agreed to stop hooking up, and she’d managed to snag the guy within a couple weeks. Mark wasn’t at all surprised. Yeri was a catch, and Yunho was smart enough to fall at her feet. Their friendship went back to being the same it had been before those few months of making out, and occasionally getting each other off.

“We, like, tried it out for a few months,” Mark tried to sum up that whole thing in a semi-professional way, and in a way that wouldn’t sound so painfully high school. “But we’re better as friends, so neither of us were cut up about ending it, you know? Besides, she’s dating Yunho now. He’ll probably drop off her dinner sometimes, or pick her up from shifts. He’s cool.”

“Oh, okay,” Johnny nodded, biting into his sandwich. He wasn’t even unattractive with pieces of lettuce sticking out the sides of his mouth. This was literally tragic for Mark. “So no work couples then, this year. That will make my shit easier.”

“No, dude, Jeno and Jaemin,” Mark reminded him, shoving two fries in his mouth. Johnny snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, so… same as always with those two, then,” he said dryly. Mark shrugged and giggled, chowing down on the second half of his sandwich. Johnny had a point.

He’d finished shoving his sandwich down his throat by quarter of, giving them plenty of time to make the ten-minute drive back to the pool. Mark dug out a ten and a five, enough to cover his meal and also tip. Johnny pushed the cash back towards Mark when he set the crumpled bills down on the center of the table. Mark furrowed his brow and shoved it back, resting the salt shaker on top. Johnny huffed a sigh, rolling his eyes and moving the shaker and using two fingers to shove the bills all the way back to Mark.

“No, dude, I got it,” he assured him. Mark opened his mouth to protest, and Johnny held a hand up. “Seriously, Mark, don’t worry about it. I asked you here, right? And I make more than you, anyways.”

“By like, a dollar, ” Mark muttered, but he folded the bills back into his wallet. Johnny shot him a grin, unfolding himself from the vaguely sticky booth.

“And that makes all the difference in the world, Mark Lee,” he told him wisely, punctuating his words with a loud crack of his spine. Mark winced at the noise. “Come on, we gotta get back. They can’t start without us.”

“Yeah, the party don’t start till we walk in.”

Mark wanted to take back the lame joke the second it escaped his mouth (a Party Rock reference? In this economy?) but Johnny laughed kindly and held the door open for him as they stepped back out into the baking parking lot.

As Mark buckled himself in the passenger seat, he couldn’t help but think, for a moment, that this excursion had been kind of like a date.

Or, well. As close as he was ever gonna get to one, with Johnny.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Opening day went well. Like, really well. It was also fucking exhausting.

It was the perfect day for the pool —  85 degrees, not a cloud in the sky, no more school. Mark had walked to work in the morning before the heat had gotten too bad, and was now immensely regretting his commitment to staying in shape. 

He’d arrived just before 8 a.m. to start running swim practice for the older kids, which had mostly been returning faces he knew from last summer, and surprisingly fun. The next wave of the younger kids at 9 was a bit harder. Several of them… did not know how to swim. Like, at all. They didn’t need any sort of verification to sign up for the town team, but God . Mark had to wonder why their parents stuck them on the team without going for lessons first. Did they, like, want them to drown? 

Those morbid thoughts had been cut off when he had to save an actual drowning toddler, who’d wandered off the entry steps while her dad was busy chatting with another parent. She’d walked straight into the water until she was entirely submerged, and then was too scared to turn around and walk back out. Truly, the lack of self-preservation instincts shown by small humans never ceased to amaze him.

Mark had hit the horn, ran down the side of the pool to the shallower end, slid in and grabbed the girl under the arms, yanking her up and cradling her in his arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay. I’m Mark, I’m here to help you. It’s gonna be okay, cough, come on now. Let’s get you outta here, alright?”

And it was okay, once the girl had finished coughing up water and been placated with a popsicle. The dad was mortified, at least, apologetic while Mark filled out the incident report. That was nice.

It was fifty-fifty, it seemed, the reactions he got after a save. Some parents would be frightened that their kid had nearly died because they weren’t paying attention, saved only by a teenager who’d suffered through 40 hours of training at the high school pool one September. Those would be the grateful ones, often bringing Mark a thank you card the next day or even a $5 gift card to Dunkin’, and their kids would usually greet him with hugs around the middle for years. Then there were the parents that were supremely annoyed at the task of giving Mark their name, address, and phone number for the incident report — a horrific inconvenience to them, apparently. He always had to grit his teeth through those. They tended to act like Mark was their child’s babysitter, and it was his fault the kid had even managed to wander off into danger in the first place. Mark was not a babysitter, he was the last resort; unfortunately, those parents didn’t see it that way. They had no idea just how close their child had come to death, and they didn’t want to know.

Johnny clapped him on the back once he slid over the finished incident report, told him to take another five. Mark’s skin was goosebump-ridden under his hand, the adrenaline still coursing through his system, making him shake. His body hadn’t quite caught up with the all-clear, yet, still trying to come down from emergency, emergency, epinephrine.  

Mark appreciated Johnny sitting chair for him while he munched on an apple he’d brought from home. He tossed the core in the trash, wrapped his waist in a towel and climbed up again, fighting his strong urge to flip Jeno and Yeri the bird as they cheered dramatically for him. He’d done it too, any time another guard got a save, giving them the hero’s roll-out. It never stopped being embarrassing when he was made the center of attention, though.

“Ya did good, Mark,” Johnny told him, stepping one foot on the first rung and hanging lazily off the side of the chair. “Coming for that ‘guard of the month’ title straight out the gate.”

“As if there was any doubt,” Mark replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Johnny snorted.

“There wasn’t. You’re supervisory material, Mark Lee.”

…

By five, Mark was ready to drop. The thought of his two-mile walk home seemed insurmountable in the sticky evening, the heat of the day not dissipated quite yet. He leaned a plastic chair back in the cover of the guard hut, stretching out his legs and groaning loudly. 

“I’m just gonna sleep here guys, alright?” he announced, cracking his neck with a pop!  

“So you’ll close for me, then?” Jaemin asked, wheedling smirk on his face. Mark opened one eye to shoot him a glare.

“You literally didn’t show up until noon, shut up. You’re staying till close.”

“Come on, Mark,” Johnny’s voice was suddenly behind him, and Mark tilted his head back to see the older boy not six inches from the back of his chair, looking down at him with a grin. He tossed his keys in his hands, jingling them. “You walked here this morning, right? I’ll drive you home.”

“Aw, thanks, man,” he said gratefully, allowing Johnny to grab his hand and haul him out of the chair. “Bye Lisa! Suffer, Jaemin!”

“Bye sweetheart,” Lisa said affectionately, waving at him slightly even as she continued playing some matching game on her phone. “See you in the morning.”

Jaemin stuck his middle finger up at Mark as he passed him by, ruffling his hair affectionately. Johnny said his goodbyes as well before hustling them out to the parking lot, walking quickly to discourage any patrons who might be tempted to stop him to catch up. On lazier days, ones that weren’t so draining, Johnny often obliged. Mark had seen him take a full half hour to complete the twenty-meter walk from the guard hut to his car, chatting with all manner of people who wanted to catch up with Johnny Suh.

Mark trailed in his wake, having to speed-walk to keep up with the long strides. He opened up the rear door and tried to find a good place to stuff his bag in the backseat (which was a mess , holy shit, Johnny needed to clean it out, for real). He eventually settled for shoving it in the footwell, on top of about five reusable grocery bags and a stray bottle of tea.

“Wanna get frozen yogurt?” Johnny asked him casually, scrolling through Insta as Mark slid into the passenger seat and fumbled with the seat belt. “We deserve something. Gotta celebrate the first save of the season, yo.”

“Oh, no,” Mark declined, pushing his sunglasses up to rest in his hair and settling into the soft leather with a content sigh. “I’m not a fan.” 

“No, dude, it’s like-” Johnny’s gaze shot up from his phone, letting it fall into the center cup holder as he attempted to explain fucking frozen yogurt to Mark. “It’s like ice cream, kinda. It’s like, solid.”

“Johnny, I know what fro-yo is, oh my god,” Mark informed him, staring at him in disbelief. Johnny looked slightly put-out. Mark huffed a laugh. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“I don’t know,” the elder whined, pushing his hair back from his face and putting the car in drive, pulling back out into the street. “I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like fro-yo!” 

“Dude, I’m literally lactose intolerant,” Mark told him, trying to muffle his laughter with his hand and failing miserably. The tips of Johnny’s ears were turning red, like he was embarrassed. Mark had literally never seen him the slightest bit embarrassed. It shouldn’t have been so incredibly charming, but there Mark was, biting back a coo and fighting to not pinch Johnny’s cheek. “Let’s go to Claudette’s, they have watermelon sorbet there.”

“You and your watermelon,” Johnny muttered, but he obligingly turned south on the main road to head to the shop. Mark couldn’t believe Johnny had remembered Mark’s obsession with watermelon, wondering if he remembered how Mark brought it in for lunch nearly every day the last two summers. He tried in vain to clamp down on the flutter in his stomach that felt suspiciously like butterflies.

“It’s the superior fruit, yo!” Mark defended, but he couldn’t stop smiling the rest of the drive, reveling in how Johnny ribbed him, and how he allowed Mark to rib him back. By the time they pulled into the small parking lot, getting a spot half on the grass, his cheeks ached from it.

Renjun was working the counter, looking incredibly irritated by the line out the door, packed full of families with kids running wild around the place, making an incredible amount of noise. When Mark bobbed through the threshold and waved enthusiastically over all the heads, bouncing on his toes so his friend could see him, Renjun’s face softened a bit. He caught Mark’s gaze and rolled his eyes slightly, then went back to packing scoops of mint-chip into a waffle cone.

“Hi, Junnie,” Mark greeted him cheerfully, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. Renjun snorted at him and flicked his forearm, but the gesture was more fond than anything.

“Get your ass off my display case,” he chastised, corner of his lip curled in a smirk. “I got you, just go to the register. And you? What do you want?”

He was glancing at Johnny, just behind Mark’s shoulder, one eyebrow arched. Mark wet his lips, eyes darting between them. Renjun looked… suspicious, almost.

Well, of course. He never did swim team with them in the summer; in fact, he avoided the pool altogether for the most part. He only came to meets their last two years of high school because Hyuck begged him, and bribed him with… well, Mark never asked. But Renjun had no idea who Johnny was, just knew some hot tall guy had showed up to a well-loved local date spot with his friend.

“This is Johnny,” Mark introduced him hastily, reluctant to leave for the register just yet. He didn’t want Renjun misreading the situation, and delivering one of his vague (but incredibly threatening) shovel talks. “He’s the manager at the pool, you know? We just finished the first day of the season!”

“’Sup?” Johnny nodded at Renjun, the single lift of his chin effortlessly cool. Mark, himself, was still trying to perfect the bro-nod.

Renjun didn’t look very impressed.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, thumb tapping his scoop impatiently as he dug into the watermelon sorbet for Mark, packing it dense into a medium-sized cup. “And what do you want?” 

Johnny ordered honey lavender. Mark was kind of surprised, because he thought cookie dough was Johnny’s favorite, but he didn’t say anything. Probably would’ve seemed weird that he knew that. Mark lingered by the register while Johnny paid, then followed him out of the crowded shop to lean up against his car and eat their ice cream in the sticky heat. Mark winced as he watched some poor kid’s scoop topple off his cone and splatter to the gravel parking lot, before shrugging and licking sorbet off his spoon. He squinted over at Johnny, who was standing in front of the setting sun. It made it nearly unbearable to stare at him, it was so bright – but then the taller man shifted and blocked the worst of the rays.

“’S pretty,” Mark commented, eyeing the pastel purple scoops melting rapidly in the cone, the way Johnny slurped around the edges to stop it from dripping down his hand. 

Mark shoveled a too-large spoonful of sorbet into his mouth, immediately making his forehead crinkle from the sudden-onset brain freeze. At least that took his mind off of Johnny’s tongue for a minute, literally cooling his blood. Johnny noticed his pained expression and snorted slightly, sticking out his tongue to lap up the line of lavender ice cream that had dripped down the veins of his wrist. Mark gulped. His pained expression didn’t have anything to do with a brain freeze, now. He was just trying his best not to pop a damn boner in the parking lot in front of several dozen tourists.

“I know you said you’re lactose intolerant, but do you wanna try some?” Johnny asked him, bringing his half-eaten cone closer to Mark’s face and waggling it enticingly under his nose. He was smiling slightly, looking directly into Mark’s eyes. Mark gulped. “One lick won’t hurt, right?”

“Right, yeah,” Mark breathed, blinking slowly. Johnny’s eyes were so warm, the kind of brown that made Mark think of tight hugs and hot chocolate. He cleared his throat slightly and swayed forward, closer to the proffered treat. “One lick won’t hurt.”

He quickly stuck his tongue out and licked up a stripe, careful to avoid Johnny’s fingers where they wrapped around the cone, dangerously close to the ice cream. Mark swallowed heavily and leaned back, resting his sweaty back against the hot wall of the car. Johnny was still staring at him, one eyebrow quirked like he was waiting for Mark’s review. Mark hadn’t even tasted the ice cream, too focused on Johnny’s eyes. He settled on just shooting him a thumbs up, relieved when Johnny seemed pleased by that response.

“Um, did you wanna try some of mine?” Mark asked, voice suspiciously squeaky. He shoveled up a spoonful and offered it to Johnny. The older boy didn’t take the white plastic utensil out of Mark’s hand though, like he had expected. 

He grabbed Mark by the wrist and brought the spoon up to his mouth with Mark still holding it, as if Mark were feeding him. He was so shocked that he remained frozen even after Johnny had sucked the sorbet from the spoon and swallowed it, dropping Mark’s hand. The spoon stayed hovering in front of Johnny’s mouth for a moment too long, before Mark snapped out of it and lowered it back to the cup, sticking it in the rapidly-melting sorbet still there.

“‘S pretty good,” Johnny remarked, running his tongue over his lower lip to get a smear of the sorbet that lingered there. Mark inhaled sharply through his nose. Fuck. “I can see why you get it every time.”

“Uh-huh.”

Mark was reduced to monosyllables and nodding dumbly. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to produce another full sentence under Johnny’s gaze again.

They finished up the treats quietly, and ambled over to the trash can by the entrance to get rid of the cup and dirtied napkins. Mark was about to head around to his side of the car and hop in the passenger seat when Johnny’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. He was tugged back slightly to face Johnny, brows furrowed in confusion when he noticed Johnny was looking intently somewhere in the vicinity of his chin.

“Here– you got some–”

Johnny leaned forward and grasped Mark by the chin, holding him steady as he pressed his lips against Mark’s. Johnny’s lips were fuller than his, and not as chapped, and Mark was no longer breathing. Johnny was so close Mark could see the pores on his cheek, measure the length of his eyelashes. Mark couldn’t even kiss back, he was so startled. The whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than a moment, before Johnny was poking his tongue out to glance against the corner of Mark’s mouth, lap up a drop of watermelon sorbet that must’ve still been there. A humiliating squeaking noise escaped Mark. 

“Got it,” Johnny leaned back and grinned at Mark, golden sunlight glinting off the crown of his head and making him look unreal. Mark blinked at him, lips slightly parted. He was still holding his breath. The crunch of gravel under Johnny’s sandals started to bring him back to reality, as did the sound of the car door swinging open.

“Good to go, Mark?”

Johnny was watching him from the driver’s seat of the Crosstrek, one leg still hanging out as he peered over at Mark. Mark, who was still standing by the trunk, completely frozen since Johnny had – since Johnny had kissed him. 

He nearly jumped at the older boy’s words, but nodded quickly and scrambled up to the passenger door. Johnny didn’t mention how red Mark’s face was as he turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the lot, carefully avoiding bumping the dozens of people milling about. Johnny didn’t mention the kiss at all, actually. He wasn’t any different than he’d been in the car ride over here, gentle teasing and complaining about the day at work, how Aisland Ridgeway’s mom was already being a pain in the ass, about how he might get Chipotle tomorrow for lunch, would Mark want to come with?

By the time Mark thanked Johnny for the ride and waved goodbye from his front door, he had nearly convinced himself the kiss was merely figment of his imagination. It couldn’t have actually happened. There was no way Johnny had just up and kissed him in Claudette’s parking lot. Mark must have gotten heat exhaustion, or suffered a hallucination powered by the sheer strength of his delusions about going for ice cream with his supervisor being a date .

He called out a greeting to his parents and pounded up the stairs, eager to hop in the shower and wash a day’s worth of chlorine, sweat and sunscreen away. Stopping to look at himself briefly in the bathroom mirror, Mark ran his tongue over his bottom lip.

It tasted like honey lavender ice cream.

🌊 🌊 🌊

"Mm, I'm looking at Yeri's Insta right now," Johnny told Mark, the both of them lounging in the plastic chairs in the guard hut. It was overcast, not a good day for sunbathing – which is what Johnny usually did for the majority of his shift. Mark hummed in acknowledgement, looking at Johnny over the top of his phone. "I see what you mean about the boyfriend, now. Their prom pics were cute."

"Yeah, they both looked great," Mark agreed, flicking open the gucci gang group chat and reacting to Donghyuck's most recent message. "Yunho is like, hot. They looked really good together. Even though Yunho towered over her."

Mark snorted at the memory of watching the two of them slow dance at the end of the night, Yeri's arm positively straining to reach around his neck.

"Oh, so that's your type? Tall guys?"

Mark spluttered, ripping his eyes up from his phone.

"What? I mean, I – I don't– I mean, I don't, really like, know what my type is. Yet. You know?"

"Yeah, sorry," Johnny said, nodding and clapping Mark on the shoulder. "Shouldn't have brought it up here, anyways."

Brought it up here? Did that mean he was planning to bring it up again later? And why was Johnny even asking what Mark's type was?

He tried not to think about the kiss Johnny had pressed to his mouth in Claudette's parking lot three nights ago, gravel crunching under their feet and ice cream melting over their knuckles. Johnny hadn't brought it up; so Mark hadn't brought it up. Maybe it really had just been some sort of fever dream, fueled by leftover adrenaline. Or maybe Johnny just wasn’t bringing it up because Mark hadn’t brought it up first.

His head was spinning from thinking about this too hard. The fever dream option was far more likely, anyways.

"It's fine," Mark dismissed, going back to his group chat. Jaemin had sent five texts in the moments he'd looked away, each increasingly unhinged. Great. He was definitely in the kind of mood that led to him bothering Mark on chair, today. Mark simply could not wait until he showed up for his shift at 4.

"Your prom pics were cute, too," Johnny added, forcing Mark to look at him again. Johnny was resting his elbow on his knee, and had his chin propped on his palm. He smiled at Mark. "You went with Lia, right? I recognized her a bit. She's one of the camp counselors, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Mark confirmed, looking at Johnny with no small amount of confusion. "Um, yeah, she's a counselor with Donghyuck. She's cool."

"Nice."

Johnny nodded and went back to his phone. Mark checked the time. He had to get on chair in two minutes. Time to start grabbing his shit, and make sure his phone was on do not disturb before leaving it on the table in here. Mark threw his towel over his shoulder and tucked the guard tube under his arm, ready to head out and rotate with Jeno. Before he stepped out though, he couldn't help lingering in the doorway. He looked at Johnny, how his brown hair hung in a soft curtain that obscured half his face.

"I'm not dating Lia, either," Mark couldn't say what compelled him to speak, but there was an undeniable rush of satisfaction when Johnny looked up and met his eyes, eyebrows raising. "Just in case you were wondering."

"Good to know," Johnny smiled, eyes crinkling. Mark swallowed dryly and nodded, ducking his head as he turned around and focused very hard on walking normally to chair one.

He didn't know what had compelled him to speak – but judging by the way he felt Johnny's eyes on him as he walked away, Mark had, for once, said the right thing.

🌊 🌊 🌊

When Friday rolled around, Mark once again was lacking a car. His mom had needed to go into the office today, leaving him to catch a ride with Yeri to coach practice in the morning. Johnny had asked him if Mark needed a ride home during lunch, casual as anything, and Mark had accepted. 

He tried not to feel apprehensive walking out to the Crosstrek at the end of their shift, which ran late on Fridays. They didn’t walk out of the facility until nearly 8 p.m., and even with the stretched-out days of mid-June, it was finally beginning to get dark outside. Johnny’s face looked foreign in the dim twilight, more shadowed and angular.

Johnny stuck the key into the ignition and turned the engine over, got the AC running. When Johnny didn’t put the car in reverse, or start checking for people behind him, Mark began to shift in the passenger seat nervously. Why were they just sitting here? He was being flooded with the memory of what happened the last time he got in this car with Johnny. With the memory of Johnny kissing him like that was something the two of them did , then walking off without explanation.

"Mark."

Something in Johnny's voice made Mark turn his head. Johnny was already staring directly at him, something unreadable in his eyes. The set of his mouth was soft, though. Mark swallowed. He wasn't sure why he was nervous.

"Sorry if this is like, out of bounds, or over the line, but – you're not straight, are you? I haven't been reading this wrong?"

Mark swallowed again, even though his mouth was suddenly so dry it felt like it'd been stuffed full of cotton. What the... what the fuck? Reading what wrong?

"Um..." Mark coughed, scratchy. "Uh, no. I'm not. Straight, that is. I am not straight. Yeah."

"Okay," Johnny nodded, smiling softly at Mark. He rested his elbow on his thigh, propping his chin in his palm. "Neither am I. I'm bi."

Mark knew. He was pretty sure Johnny knew he knew, too, because Johnny knew Mark followed him on instagram, and Johnny had posted pride photos for years with heartfelt paragraphs beneath them, and had posted photos with boyfriends in the past, and–

"Yeah, me too," Mark spoke, as if someone else had taken over his body while he was spiraling, getting words out while Mark was trapped in his head. "I'm bi. So... yeah."

"Thank you for telling me," Johnny sounded sincere. "That's cool. I've got a bunch of enamel bi flag pins, if you want one."

"Yo, really?" Mark asked, eyes widening. He’d always thought enamel pins were so cute, whenever he saw aesthetic pictures of backpacks decorated with them. He had no clue where to buy them, though. It was super nice of Johnny to offer. "That'd be awesome dude, thanks."

"Do you wanna come grab one now?" Johnny asked, sitting back properly in the driver's seat. Mark couldn't tell if he was disappointed or relieved that the other boy was no longer looking directly at him. Johnny could maintain eye contact like no one else Mark had ever met. It simultaneously made him want to blush and squirm.

"We can just drop by my house, it's basically on the way to yours. They're just up in my room."

"Oh," Mark said, fingering the seatbelt. He swallowed again, around nothing. His throat still felt dry. "Oh! Yeah, that's fine. I got nowhere to be, haha."

"Lit," Johnny said happily, finally pressing down on the brake and throwing the car into drive. "Let's go."

…

“The pins are in my room. I think I shoved them under my bed,” Johnny explained casually, parking his car in the driveway of his parents house. It’d been ages since Mark had been over here, probably years ago for some barbeque in the backyard his parents had dragged him to. It looked pretty much the same as he remembered it, though, white with black shutters and pretty flower boxes on the first floor windows. 

“Come up with me, it might take me a minute to dig them out.”

“Sure.”

Mark unbuckled his seatbelt slowly before trailing after Johnny into his house, suddenly feeling very much like a kid bobbing in his wake.

“Hey mom, dad!” Johnny called out, kicking off his flip flops in the front hall. Mark quickly followed suit. “Mark’s over! We’ll be up in my room!”

“Okay, sweetheart!” Mrs. Suh’s answer sounded faint, like she was a few rooms away. “Dinner’s in the fridge, whenever you want it!”

Mark had to jog slightly to keep pace following Johnny up the stairs, Johnny’s long legs carrying him so much faster. He tried valiantly not to stare at Johnny’s ass but, well. That was asking a lot from an eighteen-year-old boy, okay?

Johnny gestured grandly at the door to his room, nice wood painted white and completely barren of any signs or stickers. He closed it behind Mark after he stepped inside. He tried not to read into why Johnny had done that. Habit, most likely.

Mark felt like he was hovering standing aimlessly in the middle of the floor, unmoored. He was a second away from actually twiddling his thumbs. Johnny’s room was extraordinarily neat, nothing at all like the catastrophe in Mark’s home. His bed was made neatly, and there weren’t teetering stacks of paper out on his desk mixed with stray pens and notebooks. Just his laptop, sitting pristine next to the charger. There was a mug with some kind of crest on it – probably from Johnny’s alma mater – filled with pencils and pens, but otherwise that was it.

It felt like a very adult room. Mark shifted on his feet.

“They’re in here, I think,” Johnny told him, kneeling down and digging around under his bed. He pulled out a small plastic container with a noise of triumph and popped the lid off, rummaging through. “Ah… Here!”

Johnny finally unearthed a small enamel pin, and sure enough – it was the bi pride flag; pink, purple and blue set in delicate gold casing. He dropped it into Mark’s outstretched palm with a grin.

“Yo, thanks man,” Mark said sincerely, tucking it away safely in the velcro pocket at the side of his swim trunks. “It’s so cute!”

“Right?” Johnny grinned, sliding the box back under his bed and straightening up. He stretched his arms over his head, making his spine crack! loudly, and sighed in satisfaction.

Mark tried not to make it obvious that he was drifting back towards the door, hovering awkwardly by the exit. Johnny seemed in no rush, flopping down to sit on the edge of his mattress and leaning back on his palms.

“Um, do you need to eat dinner?” Mark asked, voice unusually high. “It sounded like your mom cooked something for you–”

“I’ll eat later,” Johnny dismissed, eyeing Mark from his spot on the bed. It was odd to have Johnny looking upwards at him, for once. “Don’t worry about me. Or about my mom. You can say hi later, if you want, but she won’t come up here.”

“Oh?” Mark swallowed, eyebrows shooting up. Johnny smiled wolfishly.

“She respects my privacy,” he drawled, tilting his head. It made his collarbones pop out even more. “She doesn’t come up here when I have someone over.”

“That’s… nice,” Mark said slowly, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. Was Johnny trying to imply something? He was still gazing steadily up at Mark, like he was just waiting for Mark to catch on to something. Mark wet his lips nervously.“Um, it’s nice that your parents respect your privacy, I guess? I mean, mine do too, but I guess it’s a bit different–”

“Mark.”

Johnny mercifully cut off his nervous rambling, and Mark’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Johnny didn’t look irritated. He looked amused.

“Did you seriously not realize that the damn pin was just an excuse to get you up in my room?” Johnny asked him slowly, delighted smirk spreading across his face. 

Mark felt his face burning tomato red, flush creeping down the back of his neck and the tips of his ears. He opened his mouth to try to respond, but no words came. He just closed his mouth again, and shook his head mutely.

“Okay. Well, it was just an excuse,” Johnny told him, smirk softening at the edges. “I mean, obviously I’m happy to give you a pin. I hope you put it on something, and I’m glad you like it.”

“Thanks,” Mark squeaked. Johnny huffed a laugh through his nose.

“Markie,” he sing-songed. “Did you already forget that we kissed?”

No. No, Mark had very much not forgotten that. 

“I mean, I thought you might have forgotten,” Mark mustered up the fortitude to get the words out, then immediately snapped his mouth shut. Johnny threw his head back and laughed full-out, making Mark furrow his brows.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. Mark tried not to get distracted by the rise of his chest beneath his thin tank top. “Sorry, Mark, that’s on me. That was my bad.”

“It’s okay?” Mark accepted the apology; unsure what Johnny was even apologizing for. It seemed appropriate to do so. Johnny grinned at him, tongue running over the front of his teeth.

"Mark," Johnny purred, rising from the bed. "I'm sorry I wasn't clear the other night. I'll be blunt now. Do you wanna hook up?"

Mark stood frozen.

"Do I wanna..."

He choked on thin air. This had to be some sort of lucid dream, he thought wildly, even as Johnny stalked closer to him, not stopping until there were mere inches between their bodies.

"Do you want to have sex," Johnny clarified, raising one eyebrow. "With me."

"I – I, uh – Um, dude, we work together?" Mark managed to get out, voice strangled. Johnny was staring directly in his eyes, like he was a predator establishing dominance or something. He wasn't blinking.

Mark blinked, several times. Johnny was still right in front of him, close enough to feel his breath on Mark's face.

"Yeah, we work together. That's chill," Johnny seemed to roll the words around in his mouth, looking down at Mark carefully. “It’s fine as long as we don’t spread it around.”

Mark had stopped breathing ten seconds ago. He barely resisted the urge to pinch himself.

"It’s no pressure, or anything. No strings attached, no commitment, no exclusivity. You can say no whenever, or to whatever, you want. Obviously. How does that sound to you?"

Like a fucking dream?

It wasn't until Johnny began laughing, covering his mouth with his hand like he was trying to hold it back, that Mark realized he had spoken aloud. He barely bit back a groan, letting his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. 

"Yeah, dude," Mark said, then winced. He probably shouldn't call someone who had just propositioned him 'dude', right? He tilted his head upright and peeked at Johnny. He didn't seem bothered by it at all. Mark took a deep breath. "Yeah, what you're saying, that... that sounds good."

"Friends with benefits," Johnny clarified, looking down at Mark keenly. "That's what I'm saying. Do you want to try being friends with benefits?"

Mark was pretty sure he'd died and gone to heaven. Was this his reward, for putting up with Donghyuck as a best friend for so many years? Silently, he sent up a little thanks to God.

"I'd like to try being friends with benefits," Mark said firmly, finally starting to gather his wits about him. Some crazy expression between an eager smile and a smirk was starting to take over his face. "That sounds cool. Great, even. That sounds great."

"I'm so glad," Johnny replied sardonically, but there was a real smile on his face.

Mark nearly jumped when a large, warm hand settled over his shoulder, mostly bared by his tank top. He mentally chastised himself when Johnny gave him an odd look. He needed to stop being so startled when Johnny touched him if they were going to be... friends with benefits. Holy shit.

"Can I kiss you?" Johnny asked, fingers tightening on Mark's skin. "I should've asked back at Claudette's, sorry."

"Yes, you can kiss me," Mark breathed, staring at Johnny's lips. He had such a defined cupid's bow. Mark wondered how it would feel between his own lips. "You can do whatever you want with me, Johnny."

"Careful," Johnny muttered, lids lowering as he cupped Mark's jaw, leaned in so their lips were a hairsbreadth apart. "I just might."

Mark hadn't gotten to really experience how kissing Johnny felt, back at Claudette's. It was over long before he even realized what was happening. He was mainly just left with the impression of sweetness, of full, soft lips.

Johnny's lips were still full and soft, but they weren't sweet. They tasted vaguely salty, like sweat, and kind of like mint chapstick, too.

Mark melted into the kiss, hands automatically drifting up to settle on Johnny's hips. That was familiar, at least. Tilting his face upwards to kiss someone four inches taller than him was not. Mark could already feel his neck getting slightly sore, went up on slight tip-toe to make it easier. Johnny made a surprised noise against his mouth, only to tilt Mark's face with the hand cupping it and kiss him deeper. Another large hand settled at Mark's hip, squeezing just where the band of his swim trunks sat, and pulled him in closer to Johnny's body.

Their legs were practically tangled together now, and Mark could feel where Johnny's soft dick was, pressed against his lower belly. He marveled at it, even as he licked at Johnny's lower lip and grazed his front teeth there (he was kind of bitey, he'd been told many times).

"Come on," Johnny barely pulled back from his mouth to speak, tugging Mark along with him as he walked backwards. Mark stumbled forward, nearly crashing them to the ground with the way their legs were tangled. Johnny stopped at the edge of his bed and pushed at Mark, encouraging him to sit on the mattress.

Reluctant to stop kissing Johnny, but eager to please him, Mark sat down uncertainly on the edge. Johnny smiled at him and pushed at his shoulder, as if he were encouraging Mark to lay down. Mark was suddenly very aware of what was probably about to happen. He was going to lose his, like, gay virginity. Did Johnny even know?

Mark tried desperately not to think of how much experience Johnny must have, the body count he definitely racked up at college, all the other dudes he’d fucked (like, actually fucked) that were probably way hotter than Mark and actually knew what they were doing. Mark did not know what he was doing. He barely knew what he was doing with girls, at this point, and he’d had sex with three different girls! All he’d ever done with a guy was exchange painfully awkward handjobs with Donghyuck towards the end of sophomore year, before Mark began dating Giselle and Donghyuck dated Renjun. The handjobs that they had mutually agreed to never acknowledge again! Or even think about!

“I’ve never, like…” Mark twisted his hands in the hem of his shirt nervously, chewing his lower lip and looking determinedly at a spot on the wall over Johnny’s shoulder. “I mean. The only thing I’ve ever done with another guy was give someone a handjob, once, and it was lowkey like – awful. So. Yeah. That’s like… where I’m at.”

“That’s cool,” Johnny told him, and he sounded sincere. He shifted away from Mark; pushed his hair out of his face. “We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. We can just kiss–” 

“No!” Mark cut him off, then closed his eyes, somewhat mortified. He felt his ears glowing red. “No, I, uh… wanna do more than kiss. If that’s cool with you.”

“Are you okay then, with me being like – your first time, I guess?” 

“Yeah,” Mark breathed, finally looking Johnny directly in the eye. Johnny’s face was unreadable, but not in a bad way. Neutral, but soft. “Yeah, I’m good with you being my first.”

“Awesome,” Johnny grinned, and it probably would’ve sounded dorky from anyone else. “Get up there, then, I wanna make out.”

“Oh! Okay, yeah, um, sure!”

Mark quickly pushed himself backwards up the bed, feeling clumsy as he leaned back on the pillows. Why was he nervous? He’d made out with plenty of people before. People he’d had crushes on, even! 

Johnny didn't leave any extra time for awkwardness to settle, swinging his leg over Mark's and settling on top of him. It was so unfamiliar, to have the person lying on him be so much bigger than him, completely encompass Mark's frame, swallow him up.

His weight didn't feel suffocating on top of Mark. It felt hot. Metaphorically, and literally. Mark was starting to sweat bullets.

"Johnny," he gasped, reluctantly breaking their kiss to tug at the hem of his shirt. "Let me just – I need this off."

"Yeah, yeah," Johnny agreed, sitting up. "Good idea."

He pulled his shirt off in one easy motion, shaking out his hair and tossing it over the side of the bed. Mark lay frozen underneath him, hand still holding the hem of his own shirt. He was pretty sure he was just staring up. At Johnny Suh. Who was shirtless, on his lap, with lips swollen red from kissing Mark. What the fuck?

Johnny grinned down at him and knocked Mark's hands out of the way. He tugged up the top, and Mark did a slight crunch to allow him to pull it off his head and toss it away.

Johnny didn't lay back down, stayed sitting upright, straddled over Mark's lap. Mark whined and pushed up on his elbows, trying to lean up for a kiss. A warm palm to the center of his chest stopped him, pushing him gently back down.

Mark gazed up at Johnny, dazed. Johnny's hand spanned nearly the entirety of Mark's chest, just like that. He could feel the edges of his long fingers brushing against his collarbones. Mark licked over his lower lip and swallowed dryly, watching how Johnny's eyes were fixed on Mark's bare torso.

Johnny's other hand settled on Mark's ribcage, fingers sliding into the divots. He squeezed slightly, like he was testing the give of Mark's body.

"Do you ever play with your nipples?"

Mark blinked. Johnny's hands traveled up to rest just below his pecs, fingers dangerously close to the light brown areolas. Mark opened his mouth, then closed it. He knew Johnny had asked him a question, but it'd gotten lost in the fog of his arousal.

"Um... what was that?"

"I asked if you ever play with your nipples," Johnny repeated patiently, fingertips tap tap tapping ever so lightly on Mark's chest. Mark flushed all the way down to his collarbones, practically meeting Johnny's hands. Johnny's eyes followed the blush with interest, before coming back up to meet Mark’s.

He chewed slightly at his lip.

"Yeah. Yeah, sometimes."

Yeri had too, once, when she was riding Mark, and it almost made him bust on the spot, but. Johnny didn't need to know all that.

Johnny's thumbs brushed over his nipples, slowly and lightly. Mark felt them bud up under the touch, until they were hard, erect peaks, tingling every time Johnny passed over them.

"Are they sensitive?" Johnny asked curiously. Mark felt emboldened, suddenly, and fluttered his lashes coyly.

"Why don't you find out?"

Okay, maybe Mark shouldn't have challenged Johnny like that.

"Oh, fuck–"

He immediately choked on air and swore, hips jumping uncontrollably as Johnny mercilessly pinched his nipples and twisted them between his thumb and forefinger. Mark whimpered, throwing his head back on the pillow.

"Oh god, oh god–"

"I guess they are," Johnny sounded pleased, slowly rotating his fingers and tormenting Mark even more. His hips were twitching nonstop now, it seemed. Mark felt his dick filling out against his thigh. Fuck, it was probably gonna leave a wet spot on his swim suit.

Johnny ghosted the edges of his nails over the tips of Mark's nipples, and he practically started crying. His hands shot up and wrapped around Johnny's wrists, unsure if he was trying to keep him there or push him away.

"Johnny, Johnny," Mark babbled frantically, squirming under his pinching fingers. "Oh my god, holy shit."

Johnny firmly pinched his nipples a final time, then leaned down. Making eye contact with Mark, he pressed a sucking kiss over his right nipple.

Mark made a noise akin to a deflating balloon, and gripped the back of Johnny's head. He wasn't even aware of how he was pulling at Johnny's hair.

"Too much, too much," he whined, tugging Johnny back. Johnny popped off his nipple wetly, sneakily brushing his thumb over the now wet and even more sensitive bud a final time. Mark's hips bucked up, and his erection ground slightly against Johnny's ass.

Johnny's smile went wicked.

"Are you hard, Markie?" he asked sweetly, hands coming up to cup Mark's cheeks. "Did me playing with your nipples get you hard?"

"'M hard, Johnny, I'm so hard," Mark told him plaintively, rolling his hips up. "It felt so good, I'm so hard. Please, please."

"Please what, Mark?" Johnny tilted his head, hair falling to cover one of his eyes. Mark longed to tuck it back behind his ears, but his arms felt leaden.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?"

Johnny leaned down and licked over Mark's open lips, sucking on his tongue teasingly before sitting up straight again. Mark whined, squirming beneath his weight. He was pinned by Johnny's weight on his hips.

"Or did you want me to take these off?" Johnny asked, tugging teasingly at the elastic of Mark's swimsuit. He nodded eagerly, widening his eyes up and giving Johnny his best pleading face. The older boy cursed under his breath, pulling the band down. "Lift your hips a bit for me, that's it."

Mark didn't even have a moment to feel self-conscious about being naked in front of Johnny, who'd he had been thirsting over for literal years , before his legs were being spread and Johnny was settling between them. His large hands remained on Mark's thighs, squeezing him slightly. His palms spanned the entire top of Mark's thighs.

"Do you want me to touch your cock?" Johnny asked, all faux sympathy as he trailed a finger up Mark's inner thigh, diverting away from his dick at the last second and tracing up his hip bone. Mark's cock twitched untouched, aching red and already leaking against his tummy.

"Please," Mark begged, curling his toes in the quilt. "Please touch my cock, Johnny."

"You beg so nicely," Johnny murmured, taking Mark in hand.

Mark had never had someone with bigger hands than him touch his cock. Johnny’s palm was smooth, a few calluses at the base of his fingers, as he stroked Mark teasingly. He gave him barely any pressure, running the pads of his fingers over the slit, already giving up precum. Johnny spread the sticky liquid down his shaft, closely watching the way Mark squirmed beneath him.

“Mark, Mark,” Johnny asked, finally grasping the base of Mark’s cock firmly. Mark gasped from the sweet pressure, knees bending up to cage Johnny in better. “Mark, can I blow you?”

What the fuck did he think Mark was gonna say to that? No?

“Yes,” Mark said, already breathing heavier. “Yes, please, Johnny, please blow me.”

Johnny murmured something as he scooted himself down the bed, laying out between Mark’s legs. It sounded vaguely like, You’re a fucking dream, but Mark couldn’t be sure.

Mark couldn’t focus on anything but Johnny’s full lips pressed to the tip of his cock, on anything but how dark Johnny’s eyes were as he looked up at Mark.

“Fuck,” he choked out, bringing his hand up to his mouth bite on his own knuckle. “Fuck.”

Mark had gotten head before, and don’t get him wrong – it had felt fucking awesome. But this… What Johnny was doing was fucking expert-level dicksucking, jesus christ. Mark was pretty sure his soul was gonna leave his body, that he was gonna cum so hard he’d black out and die.

Johnny swallowed him down to the root, nose pressing against Mark’s pubic bone through the messy curls there. Nobody had ever done that before. Mark wasn’t, like, small. He could not believe he had the warm, wet heat of Johnny’s mouth and throat around his cock, all the way to the base.

“Holy shit,” Mark swore, threading his fingers through Johnny’s hair and summoning up every ounce of willpower he had to not simply shove Johnny down on his cock. “Holy shit, Johnny, you’re so good at this.”

Johnny hummed, as if to say ‘I know’, and the vibration made Mark’s toes curl up, his abs clench.

“I’m close, I’m close.”

Johnny pulled off his cock slowly, swirling his tongue around the tip in a way that made Mark whimper.

“You can come in my mouth,” he informed Mark, before swallowing him back down.

“Johnny – I’m gonna–”

Mark threw his forearm over his mouth, teeth clenching down to muffle himself as he practically shouted with the force of his orgasm. He was pretty sure his eyes rolled back in his head. His cock was being milked by the gentle contractions of Johnny’s throat as he swallowed down Mark’s cum. Because Mark had just came in Johnny’s mouth, holy fuck.

He panted heavily as Johnny slowly drew off his cock, licking over the prominent vein on the side and sucking the tip into his mouth one last time, like he was cleaning Mark with his tongue. Mark’s forearm was still covering the lower half of his face, and he was breathing so hard his ribs heaved with it.

“Dude,” he said hoarsely. “Johnny. Holy shit.” 

“Good?” Johnny preened. Mark wasn’t even gonna begrudge him the blatant cockiness, the bragging. 

“The best,” he said fervently, finally moving his arm so he could grab Johnny by the shoulders and pull him up to kiss him. “I’ve never cum so hard in my life, oh my god.”

“Happy to hear it,” Johnny sighed contently, licking into Mark’s mouth and kissing him messy. Mark didn’t even mind that some of his own cum was on Johnny’s tongue still. He licked it off his own hand often enough when he was jerking off.

Mark was pretty sure he’d melted into a puddle on the bed, but Johnny hadn’t melted yet. His erection poked Mark in the thigh persistently as they kissed, hot and hard even through the swimsuit material. Because Johnny hadn’t even taken his shorts off, yet. Mark was a little bit embarrassed. He’d been so focused on getting off, on feeling good, he hadn’t even thought about what Johnny might need.

Mark pushed at Johnny’s shoulders, getting him to kneel back between Mark’s legs, sitting on his heels. Mark sat up straight with great effort and traced his forefinger along the elastic of Johnny’s swim trunks. He was distracted for a moment, entranced by the golden skin, soft and covering hard lines of muscle, that Mark was allowed to touch.

“Johnny?” Mark asked, meeting the other boy’s gaze. Johnny’s palms were flat on his own thighs, like he was being careful not to touch his dick. God, he must be aching by now. Mark reached out his own hand, palmed over the bulge covered by red nylon. It was hot under Mark’s hand, even through the double lining.

Johnny hissed audibly, hips pressing up in search of more friction.

“Johnny,” Mark repeated, squeezing his dick gently. “Can I suck you off?”

Johnny groaned, deep in his chest. He gently picked up Mark’s hand and moved it off his cock, dropping it carefully back on Mark’s own abdomen. It didn’t feel like a rejection, somehow.

“Are you sure?” Johnny asked him, lowering his brows seriously. “Because I’m just good like this, for real. I can take you home now, if you want.”

“No, no, I – I wanna try,” Mark said shyly, ducking his head slightly. He glanced up at Johnny. “I wanna try to suck your dick.”

“Fuck,” Johnny muttered, hand drifting to his own swim trunks and shoving them down over the considerable bulge tenting them. “Well, I’m not gonna say no to that, Mark. Have at it.”

Mark swallowed and curled his fingers around Johnny’s cock, trying to project a boldness he didn’t feel. Johnny’s dick was… a dick, that was for sure. He was circumcised, and about the same length as Mark. But he was thicker, and for a moment it felt strange to curl his hand around a dick from this angle, that felt so similar to his own, but not quite the same .

That was only for a moment though. Mostly, it was just hot. Mark’s orgasm had just left him a languid soup of arousal, and he dragged his hand up Johnny’s length slowly, dry.

“Um, should I…?”

“Oh yeah, here,” Johnny agreed, shuffling up the bed to switch their positions, grabbing a pillow and offering it to Mark. “It’s easier to be on your knees, at first.”

Mark took the pillow gratefully, dropping it to the floor and sinking down on it. He was glad Johnny was being considerate, taking his inexperience into account, trying to help him without being patronizing.

Mark wrapped his hand around the base of Johnny’s dick again and guided it to his mouth, trying not to stare. He might be feeling intimidated as he licked tentatively over the tip, but he didn’t want to look intimidated.

It was surprisingly difficult to take Johnny’s cock in his mouth. Or, well, not difficult – but it stretched his lips so much more than he expected, in a way that was already making the delicate skin at the corners of his mouth kind of sore. Mark tried his best to fold his lips over his teeth, get them out of the way as he pushed his head down Johnny’s cock. Not that far, not even far enough to meet his fist curled around the base. Mark’s mouth still felt impossibly full. He wondered how it would feel to get Johnny’s entire dick down his throat, how incredibly filled his mouth would be, how it would make him choke . Fuck, he wanted that. Not today, but… he wanted the chance to choke on Johnny’s cock. God, he hoped he got the chance. He hoped he would be good enough, to prove to Johnny that this shouldn’t be a one-off.

Mark sucked uncertainly, hollowing out his cheekbones and glancing up at Johnny for approval. It was weird, but it was like Mark had forgotten how to suck on something. He tried to think of the dick in his mouth like a straw, but he suddenly couldn’t remember how he sucked on a straw, either. He was pretty sure this was how he was supposed to suck... 

“Yeah, like that,” Johnny encouraged, petting over Mark’s hair and cupping the back of his head. His other hand stayed anchored on the mattress, propping himself up to look down at Mark. 

Mark felt himself blush and he looked down shyly, at where Johnny’s happy trail met the nest of curls at the base of his dick. Mark tried to stroke the majority of Johnny’s cock that he couldn’t fit in his mouth, but it was unexpectedly difficult to coordinate the movement of his hand and his mouth. At least the drool dripping from his lips, that Mark was unable to swallow back down, was slicking the way for his fist. 

Johnny hissed, fingers flexing on the back of Mark’s neck.

“Teeth.”

Mark made a small noise of apology, trying not to let distress flood him. It was fine. Johnny hadn’t pulled Mark off him, he couldn’t have hurt Johnny too badly. Johnny knew it was his first time, it was fine. It would be fine.

Mark felt awfully like a turtle as he curled his lips over his teeth, trying very hard not to snag Johnny’s dick with them again.

There were a few more reminders to mind his teeth, but Johnny never sounded annoyed about it, so Mark tried not to fixate on that. Eventually, he figured out how to flatten his tongue, making the slide of Johnny’s cock into his mouth easier. Johnny scratched his nails behind Mark’s ear, as if in approval. It felt nice. 

The little humming noise Mark let out in response must have felt nice for Johnny, because his hips stuttered into Mark’s mouth. Mark’s eyes flew fully open in mild panic, pushing himself off Johnny’s dick and staring up at the elder. 

Johnny’s hair was a mess, tangled from his fingers and flopping into his eyes, and his mouth was hanging ajar. He grimaced apologetically at Mark, scratching behind his ear again in a way that made Mark’s spine feel melty. 

“Sorry, baby,” he murmured, and his gravelly voice sent a shiver through Mark. It didn’t go unnoticed by the elder, judging by the soft chuckle from above him.

Mark didn’t mind. He was too focused on being called ‘baby’. He wanted Johnny to call him that again. He gripped the base of Johnny’s cock and brought the tip back to his mouth, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there and laving his tongue over the slit, keeping his eyes locked with Johnny’s. Mark could see the way his abs clenched, right in front of his eyes, as Johnny groaned.

“Keep that up baby and you’re gonna make me cum,” Johnny told him, bringing his other hand down to trace over the hollow of Mark’s cheekbone. “Keep looking at me. Y-yeah, yeah, that’s it…”

Mark sank his mouth back down on Johnny’s cock with renewed determination, ignoring the ache in his jaw and the corners of his mouth. He pulled off Johnny’s dick more often to give his already-sore face a break, staring up at Johnny from under his lashes as he lapped over the tip of his cock and tried to breathe deeply through his nose before bobbing back down. He didn’t bother trying to force Johnny’s dick past the back of his throat. Mark was trying enough new things already today, thanks.

It took a lot longer for Johnny to get close than it had for Mark – but he didn’t take it personally. He knew this was inexperienced, and sloppy. But it was his first time giving a dude head and it was also kind of… thrilling? It was making heat settle in the pit of his stomach, and Mark was pretty sure he could get hard again easily if he put his hand on his dick.

“’M close,” Johnny whispered, abs flexing as he visibly strained not to thrust his hips forward. Mark moaned encouragingly around his cock, cupping Johnny’s balls and squeezing them in his palm. He could feel Johnny’s dick get thicker on his tongue, felt it harden impossibly more.

“Pull off, pull off,” Johnny told him hastily, tugging at his hair slightly. Mark went up with ease, cockhead popping wetly from between his lips. He kept stroking Johnny, twisting his palm around the tip like he did when getting himself off, now. Mark tugged on Johnny’s balls lightly, and that seemed to do it. He felt Johnny’s cock twitch in his hand, then the warm, wet ropes of cum spilling over his fingers. Some weren’t stopped by his hand, shot out between his fingers and hit Mark on the chin, making him flinch back slightly, startled.

“Sorry,” Johnny moaned, not sounding very sorry. He sounded breathless, and kind of dazed, and he was looking down at Mark with very dark eyes. Mark shook his head slightly. He didn’t mind, once the initial surprise left him. He would’ve closed his eyes if he knew Johnny was gonna cum on his face, was all.

Maybe next time.

Mark kept stroking Johnny through his orgasm, slicking his cock with his cum, until it started feeling sticky under his palm. He dipped forward hesitantly, tongue out. Johnny had swallowed, so it was only fair, right–

“Fuck, baby,” Johnny groaned as Mark licked over the tip of his cock, dipping his tongue in the slit as the last spurt of cum dribbled out. Mark curled his tongue back into his mouth and swallowed, tilting his head in consideration. It didn’t taste like much of anything, but it left his mouth feeling weird.

Johnny had thrown a hand over his eyes and rubbed them roughly before blinking back down at Mark, like he needed to adjust to the sight.

“Holy shit, Markie.”

Mark blushed under the praise, patchy red down to his collarbones. He tried not to duck his head, forcing himself to smile up at Johnny and meet his eyes.

The other boy gripped him by the shoulders and tugged him off the floor and back onto the bed, Mark collapsing on top of him in a tangle of limbs. His knees and shins had gone kind of numb, pins and needles, but it didn’t even bother him, not with Johnny kissing him like this. He licked into Mark’s mouth like he was trying to taste his release off the back of Mark’s tongue. 

“Was that good?” Johnny asked, breathing heavily as he pulled away from Mark’s mouth. Mark squirmed slightly and whined, a bit embarrassed even as he nodded eagerly. “Was that good for you?”

“Yeah,” Mark affirmed, curling strands of Johnny’s silky hair between his fingers. “It was good for me.” 

“Good,” Johnny grinned up at him, all teeth. Mark was helpless to do anything but grin back, even if he felt goofy doing it. “Good enough to do it again, sometime?”

“Uh, yeah dude. Totally.”

“Great.” 

“Cool.”

🌊 🌊 🌊

“Do it again, sometime” translated to: tomorrow. Let’s do this again, tomorrow. Mark sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

“Um, I’m gonna go hang out at Johnny’s,” Mark told his mom, tossing an apple in his palm nervously. He eyed her across the kitchen, where she was setting up the coffee maker for a second pot. It wasn’t that Mark thought she would say no, or anything. Just that if she looked him in the face right now, she’d definitely be able to tell he was up to… something. Mark had never managed to tell a lie to his parents a day in his life. It was probably why they trusted him so much, actually.

“Can I have the car for the day? Or do you need it?”

“No, honey, it’s Saturday,” Mark’s mom told him easily, scooping out grounds and shooting him a quick smile over her shoulder. “If I need a car I’ll just use dad’s, he’s home all day. Is this Johnny Suh, from work?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mark coughed, trying not to scratch the back of his neck or shift his weight guiltily. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. “We’re hanging out.”

“Well, tell Mrs. Suh I said hi if you see her!” Mark’s mom chirped, pressing ‘start’ on the machine. “God, it’s been ages since I spoke with her. What a nice lady.”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed blandly, making his break for the door. He was mainly glad his mom hadn’t asked if Johnny’s was where Mark had been last night, if that’s why he had come home from work late. She would’ve raised her eyebrow in that knowing way she had, and Mark would’ve turned firetruck red and given himself away.

When Mark arrived at the Suh’s house, he lingered awkwardly in the car for a minute. Should he text Johnny he was here? Would that be strange? Johnny would probably just tell him to walk inside… but Mark couldn’t just walk into the Suh’s house. Should he knock?

Mark nodded to himself. Knocking would be good. He would knock. Well, he’d ring the doorbell. Nobody could hear knocking unless they were already standing by the door.

Mark had one finger reaching for the bell when the door swung open to reveal Johnny, wearing an oversized t-shirt and his hair an absolute mess. Mark jumped, nearly falling off the front step in surprise. Johnny raised his eyebrow.

“H-hey! Hi, Johnny. Um, how did you know I was here?”

“My bedroom window faces the road,” Johnny told Mark, leaning against the doorframe. “I saw you pull up.”

“Oh, good. That’s… good to know.”

“Come in, Mark Lee,” Johnny sounded a touch exasperated, but he was also smiling at Mark big enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes. Mark tried not to cringe and hopped over the threshold, sliding his flip-flops off and putting them on the rack. He trailed up the steps after Johnny, a mirror of last night. Except for now it was broad daylight, and Johnny looked sleep-rumpled.

Johnny face-planted into the bed when they got back up, looking for all the world like he was going to fall back asleep. Mark stood at the end of the bed, watching him in confusion. After a moment, Johnny flipped over.

“Sorry,” he said, arching his back so that his spine popped. “I’ve only had one cup of coffee so far.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Mark offered. Johnny’s expression darkened.

“You will,” he muttered ominously. Mark shrugged. 

They stared at each other for a moment before Johnny huffed out a laugh and crooked a finger at Mark.

“What do I have to do to get you in my bed, Mark? Do you need a written invitation?”

Mark giggled even as he blushed. Johnny did that to him often: made Mark laugh with his jokes while simultaneously making Mark embarrassed because he was the butt of said jokes.

Mark climbed onto the bed tentatively, crawling on his hands and knees to where Johnny was sprawled in the middle of the queen-sized mattress. He hesitated for a moment, then straddled Johnny’s hips, placed on hand on either side of his head. He was caging Johnny in like this, on top of him on all fours. Johnny’s hair was splayed on the white pillow case. It looked so silky. Mark ached to touch it. His fingers twitched, and then he clenched them further into the sheets instead. He couldn’t… he couldn’t just reach out and touch Johnny. Mark was too timid. He wasn’t like Johnny, who touched Mark so easily. Casual hands on his shoulders, thighs, neck, patting his head…

“Mark,” Johnny said softly, staring directly into his eyes. Mark maintained eye contact, even as he felt his ears begin to burn. Why did this feel embarrassing?

“Mark, I want you to touch me however you’d like. As much as you want,” Johnny told him earnestly, his long forefinger coming up to trace Mark’s cheekbone, the bow of his lips. “If I don’t like something, I’ll just tell you. It won’t be a big deal. But I don’t want you to be scared to touch me.”

“O-okay,” Mark replied hesitantly, wetting his lips. His tongue brushed the pad of Johnny’s finger. He wanted to… Mark summoned up some courage, and kissed Johnny’s finger chastely. Johnny’s eyes darkened immediately, looking at Mark like he’d done something amazing. Mark took a deep breath.

“And you’ll tell me? If you don’t like the way I touch you?” Johnny asked him. He’d moved his finger out of Mark’s reach, and he suddenly sounded very solemn. Mark blinked, nose scrunching slightly. He couldn’t really imagine a way Johnny could touch him he wouldn’t like. Johnny must’ve read something of that on his face and sighed. “Seriously, Mark. If I do anything you don’t like… or you’d just rather I do something else. Promise me you’ll tell me that. I want to make you feel good.”

Mark swallowed.

“I promise,” he whispered, and then he leaned down to brush his lips over Johnny’s.

Mark would do his best to keep his promise, but privately he thought there was very, very little Johnny could do to him that he wouldn’t enjoy. 

… 

“It’s up a little bit more… like right– oh! Yeah, there,” Mark whimpered, fingers scrambling in the sheets as Johnny curled his two fingers up to press against Mark’s prostate. He rubbed over it relentlessly, until Mark’s cock gave up precum. Johnny lapped it up, taking a moment to suckle on the tip. Mark grunted, hips jumping eagerly.

“I can take it,” Mark promised Johnny, already winded. “I can take it, come on, give it to me.”

“Not yet,” Johnny told him, voice low as he pressed a third finger inside Mark. “I told you, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You aren’t hurting me,” Mark told him impatiently, even as his entrance stung a bit as Johnny slightly spread out the three fingers inside him. “Johnny.”

“There’s no rush, Mark,” Johnny assured him with a soft laugh, milking more precum from Mark’s cock and squeezing his balls lightly. “I wanna take my time with you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Mark melted into a puddle on the comforter, content to let Johnny take his time. He didn’t have to rush this. Johnny wasn’t going to disappear. He wasn’t a dream Mark was going to wake up from.

The sting when Johnny pushed his cock into Mark, fat tip stretching out his rim, grounded him in reality. The sharp ache that took hold right away proved this was not a dream. Mark was glad. He didn’t tell Johnny that it kind of hurt, just wrapped his arms around Johnny’s neck and told him to keep going, pulled him down and drowned himself in his kisses until the pain was a distant, blurry thought lurking in the recesses of his mind.

Mark didn’t mind the ache. He relished it. He had dreamed about fucking Johnny for so long. But this wasn’t a dream. In dreams, everything was perfect, the edges smoothed, dulled down. No pain. But no real pleasure, either.

Johnny’s hips slammed into Mark’s ass a final time, and he could feel Johnny’s dick twitch as he spilled his release into the condom. He jerked Mark’s cock too-fast, holding it nearly too tight, until Mark came with a shout all over Johnny’s fist. When Johnny carefully pulled out, Mark couldn’t hide his wince. But that was okay, because Johnny wasn’t upset. He lavished Mark with praise, and kisses, and pet down Mark’s flank soothingly, rubbing his tensed up muscles until he relaxed.

Mark was already sore. He knew he was going to be sore tomorrow, too. His hole felt tender, slightly swollen, and he still had to clean out the lube in the shower later. 

Mark smiled against Johnny’s mouth, ruining their kiss. Johnny smiled back, but his eyes had a question in him. Mark just shook his head and pressed another kiss to Johnny’s lips. He didn’t want to explain that he was so happy because he was hurting.

This was real.

🌊 🌊 🌊

“Woah, dude, what happened to you?”

Mark tried not to sound too shocked. Judging by Jaemin’s miserable face, he didn't pull it off. Or maybe that sourpuss expression had nothing to do with Mark – every inch of exposed skin he could see on Jaemin was bright red, like a boiled lobster. It looked painfully tight, and Mark knew it had to be burning and itching something terrible already.

“What do you think happened?” Jaemin grumbled, sipping morosely from his purple powerade (who even drank purple powerade?). “The sun fucking got my ass.”

Mark winced in sympathy.

“You forgot to reapply sunscreen?” Mark said knowingly, settling down across the table from Jaemin as Sungchan and Chaeryoung grabbed the first aid kits and air horns to place at the guard chairs. The joys of being a third-year guard; he could offload his work onto the newbies. Jaemin snorted.

“I did reapply,” he rolled his eyes. 

Mark charitably did not respond, ‘Well, clearly not often enough.’ Jaemin’s expression soured further as he glared at Mark.

“Where were you yesterday, Mark?” Jaemin asked. Mark stared blankly at him. Jaemin shifted, clearly irritated by Mark’s non-response. “We all went to the beach, like we talked about last week. Chenle and Jisung came along. You were the only one missing.”

“Oh, sorry,” Mark compulsively apologized. “I didn’t realize we were following through on those plans. I had no idea you all went down yesterday.”

“You missed all our texts in the group chat?” Jaemin asked disbelievingly. Mark winced. 

“Well…”

“Oh my god, you just opened it to clear the notifications then closed it out without reading any messages, didn’t you.”

Mark sat in guilty silence. It’s not like he would’ve gone anyways, even if he had read the texts. He’d spent Sunday recovering from Johnny blowing his back out, gratefully taking advantage of having the weekend off work. Mark’s mind whirred as he struggled to invent an excuse for his no-show, Jaemin growing more visibly agitated by the second.

Mark was saved by the entry of a new person, their presence announced by flip-flops slapping the concrete obnoxiously.

“What are we doing over here, slackers? Good morni– Jesus, Jaemin. That is some burn you got there dude, holy shit,” Johnny sounded almost in awe of Jaemin’s sunburn.

“Who the fuck are you calling a slacker?” Jaemin bitched, crossing his arms and raising a challenging eyebrow at Johnny. He had a point, but the effect was offset by his grimace from moving his tender skin too fast. Mark snickered, garnering a wicked smirk from Johnny.

Johnny ruffled Mark’s hair. He dramatically pointed two fingers at his own eyes, then at the boys sitting down.

“I got my eye on you,” he warned playfully, shooting Mark a wink.

Mark went as red as Jaemin.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Mark and Yeri had a little routine – a couple days a week, they'd meet at the pool at 7 a.m, an hour before swim team practices began. They'd unlock the doors together, then work out in the pool for an hour. They switched off creating the sets to complete, and pushed each other to actually do them and not skimp out (Yeri in particular always tried to shave 50 yards off a 500 set, making Mark keep a close eye on her). It was fun, and it was keeping them in shape.

More importantly to Mark, it was one-on-one time with one of his best friends, which felt particularly precious now. Yeri was heading up to NYC with Donghyuck for college – clear across the country from Mark. He didn't want to admit how anxious that made him, how he feared his two best friends would become so much closer and leave him behind. For now, Mark appreciated this time with Yeri, even if they spent most of it underwater, pushing themselves until their chests were heaving and their muscles screamed from the lack of oxygen.

They'd done a more fun set today and finished early, due to both of them being scheduled to work long shifts. Mark treaded by the wall while Yeri ripped off her cap and goggles. The thing was, Mark had told Johnny he would keep their set-up on the low. And he didn't want to be a liar. But he was itching to tell someone. He'd hooked up with Johnny three more times in the past week alone! Mark had literally had anal sex for the first time last weekend, and he hadn't told anybody about it yet! He was fucking dying, bursting at the seams to talk about it. And Yeri could actually keep a secret, unlike literally everyone else in their friend group.

"Malgeumi," Mark began, knowing the affectionate use of her favorite nickname would get her attention. It worked. Yeri tilted her head in surprise, and she pushed herself over to hang off the lane line separating the two of them. Technically, they weren't supposed to hang off the plastic circles – it weakened the cord running through them – but... no one was around to see.

"Mark-yah," she replied, resting her chin on her crossed forearms. Her legs floated out lazily behind her. "What's up? Something bothering you?"

"Well, not bothering me..." Mark hesitated, unsure how to put this. Yeri raised a singular brow.

"You could've fooled me," she said dryly, pursing her lips sympathetically at him. "You've been acting kinda weird all week, Markie. Not, like, bad . But weird. You know you can tell me anything dude, right? And it will stay between us?"

"Yeah," Mark nodded, and he couldn't help the relief that loosened his shoulders. He leaned against the concrete wall, hardly a foot from Yeri's face. "Yeah, I know. You're the best, seriously. I guess... Well, okay, here's the thing. I've been hooking up with someone–"

"No fucking way," Yeri cut him off. "Who? Oh my god!"

Mark shot her a mock glare that transformed into a more serious expression as he got ready to speak again.

"Okay, seriously, don't tell anyone, but–" Mark took a deep breath. "I've been fucking Johnny."

Yeri blinked at him.

"Johnny Suh? Like, our boss, Johnny?"

"Yeah," Mark sighed, watching her carefully. Yeri blinked again, then let go of the lane line with one hand to splash Mark. He sputtered at the sudden stream of water in his face, so startled he nearly missed her excited squeals.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, you're fucking Johnny? Dude! You're a fucking legend for that shit, Mark. He’s so fucking hot!"

Yeri held her hand up for a high-five, and Mark smacked her back, torn between bemusement and smug delight.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner, you little liar," she accused playfully, flattening her palm to splash him again. Mark returned the splash in kind, mock-scowling at her.

"It's only been, like, a week, Yerim," he explained, and spread his limbs out into a backfloat. He stared up at the clouds, at the pale blue of the morning sky, and could sense Yeri's presence just off to his side. "But yeah. I've been fucking our boss, Johnny. Fuck. I've been fucking our boss, Yeri!"

"Yeah, that is a little screwy," Yeri agreed, voice softening into something a bit more contemplative. "I mean, be careful, right? I don't want him like, firing you, or some shit."

"Come on," Mark protested, turning his head to squint at Yeri. "We know Johnny. I don’t think he can even really fire people, anyways, I think Marty has to do it… But you don't think he'd actually try to do something like that, right?"

Yeri shrugged and kicked her legs slightly behind her, sending up tiny splashes.

"I mean, no," she said slowly, and Mark stood up in the 5 feet of water to look at her better. Yeri's face was unreadable, but she was watching Mark closely. "I don't think he's, like, evil. But he is pushing thirty."

"Johnny is twenty-three, you fucking gremlin," Mark narrowed his eyes at her, getting a bright grin in return.

"I know! I know, don't look at me like that," Yeri wagged a finger at him, and Mark folded his arms over his chest. "I'm just saying. He's a bit old, you know? Like, what is he doing with an eighteen year old? There's no way he can't bag people his own age, I mean. Look at him."

"Trust me, I have," Mark muttered, but his face had darkened. He wondered the same thing, honestly. He tried not to think about it, but... what was Johnny doing, fooling around with Mark? Mark was just... Mark. Average. Johnny had seen him cry at swim team championships when Mark was thirteen and got disqualified from a race because his streamline had carried him too far. Why would he want to fuck Mark?

"That's not what I meant, Mark," Yeri cut through his depressing thoughts with a knowing look. "You're hot as fuck too. Like, damn. You should have heard how the girls talked about you in the locker room last season, Jesus Christ."

"Shut up," Mark muttered, but he was unable to stop the blush that was spreading down the back of his neck to his bare chest. Yeri smirked at him knowingly.

"Don't front," she teased. "You like hearing about how hot everyone thinks you are, you insufferable Leo."

Mark stayed silent. He wasn't going to concede the point, but Yeri wasn't, like, wrong.

"So, is the sex good?" Yeri asked, leaning forward with her eyes wide open. Mark laughed, bouncing closer on his toes so he could whisper.

"So fucking good, you would not believe." 

Yeri giggled, and he happily bumped fists with her. She sighed dreamily and rested her face back on her forearms.

"Tell me everything," she demanded.

And Mark did.

"This was fucking A-1 gossip, dude," Yeri told Mark, her own cheeks now red. Mark’s were, too. Just remembering the stuff Johnny had done to him in his bedroom, in the passenger seat of his car… Mark shook his head to clear it.

She'd been very insistent on getting Johnny's dick size, and, well. Mark wasn't going to lie. Half the staff had been thirsting after Johnny for literal years; Mark just happened to be the one who fell into his bed, through sheer dumb luck. He would want the intel, if he were in Yeri’s place. This was what friends were for! "You're fucking Johnny Suh. Johnny Suh. You absolute monster."

"Thanks," Mark huffed through a laugh, doing a lazy frog kick as he held onto the lane line beside his friend. "You can't tell anyone else though, okay? I probably wasn't supposed to even tell you all this."

"I'm honored," Yeri said dryly, pressing a hand over her heart. "For real, I got you. I won't tell anyone. But, Mark..."

Mark looked at her expectantly. Yeri chewed on her lower lip, then turned her head to face him directly.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing? I mean, friends with benefits with our boss," Yeri emphasized. "Who's four years older. Like, what goes on?"

"I don't know what the fuck goes on," Mark sighed, hiding his face in his slick forearms. "I feel like I stumbled into this by accident. Like, I literally do not know how I convinced Johnny to stick his dick in me. But I'm not gonna complain about it."

"Do you, baby," Yeri told him, slapping his arm affectionately. "But, like, no feelings? Good luck with that."

Her final statement was punctuated with noise from the entryway of the facility, the older kids on the swim team arriving for practice and ducking into the locker rooms to stow their bags. Yeri and Mark heaved themselves out of the pool in sync and grabbed their towels off the fence and waited for their charges by the diving blocks, sunglasses firmly on and stances all-business.

But Mark couldn't help but think about what Yeri had said. He agreed.

He was gonna need all the luck he could get.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Sometimes, Mark was pretty sure he worked in the pits of hell. Not because his job sucked, or anything.

It was just so. Fucking. Hot.

95° Fahrenheit, 87% humidity, and not a cloud in the sky. Mark was going to fry on this chair like an egg. Or he might melt into a puddle, reduced to nothing but a pool of sweat and empty pair of swim trunks.

He glared enviously at Johnny and Lisa, who were standing in the 5-feet deep section of the water. They got paid more than him to stay cool? While Mark sweat to death on this chair, ten feet high and therefore closer to the sun than anyone else here? Unfair. So unfair.

This was why he needed to be promoted to manager next summer.

In fairness, Johnny and Lisa had been coming around to both guards on chair fairly often, refilling their water bottles with new ice water (which went warm within ten minutes), letting the guards hop into the pool then bounce back out, making sure they had enough sunscreen. It didn't matter, though. When Mark swam from chair one to chair two, completely soaking himself, he just air-dried within five minutes. He was going to bake . Like a lobster.

And, of course, it didn't help that the facility was absolutely packed. The pool was practically filled shoulder-to-shoulder, and Mark was pretty sure they were over capacity, but no one had ever bothered actually counting patrons to make sure they remained within fire code limits and they weren't about to start now.

When it was finally Mark's break, he dove into the deep section gratefully and swam underwater past the ropes, popping up where Johnny and Lisa were standing, leaning against the wall of the pool. He shook out his hair like a wet dog, making Lisa shriek gamely. Johnny did him one better and fully splashed him in the face, nearly making Mark inhale chlorinated water. He glared at Johnny balefully, but got nothing but a smug smirk in response.

He wasn't sure, but he was pretty sure behind the black glass of Johnny's Ray-bans, he was staring at Mark's nipples. He fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest and sidled closer to Lisa. She would protect him.

"Good day for a drill," she remarked, gazing out over the heads of the dozens in the water. 

"There's so much chaos, we could recruit somebody easily without the guards getting tipped off."

"It will be hell trying to get to the victim, though," Mark pointed out, shuddering at the thought of trying to swim and shove past all the bodies to get to the kid fake-drowning. At least he wasn't the guard who would have to suffer – she wouldn't have brought it up if they were going to drill him. It would defeat the purpose of making sure he was 'always alert'.

"Yeah, that's what makes it fun!" Johnny enthused, like an asshole. Mark suppressed a shudder. Last summer, Johnny had roped Mark into doing a spinal drill – when it was 65° and drizzling out. Mark was pretty sure that he almost caught hypothermia in the time it took to strap the 'victim' (one of the beach lifeguards, clearly a masochist, who'd come over to volunteer) to the backboard in the water.

"You're sick," he told Johnny, frankly. His supervisors just laughed at him.

"You'll understand when you're a manager," Lisa assured him. "It's just too much fun to torment you guys."

Mark rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to tamp down the pleased smile fighting to spread over his lips. 'You'll understand when you're a manager.' Coming from Lisa, that was practically a guarantee for the promotion Mark was gunning for next season. He felt giddy, all of a sudden, not weighed down by the beating sun or oppressive humidity for a moment.

"I have an extra Gatorade in the fridge, if you want it," Johnny said suddenly, leaning around Lisa to peer down at Mark. Mark blinked at him. "I know it's really hot. I don't want you sweating out all your electrolytes, bro."

"Uh... thanks?"

"No prob," Johnny said, leaning his elbows back against the wall and tilting his face up to the sun. Mark tried not to stare at the golden arch of his neck, dripping with sweat and chlorinated water. "It's the big blue one."

"Thanks, Johnny, for real," Mark told him, clapping him on the arm as he heaved himself out of the water. "I'll go grab it now."

Mark ignored the contemplative glance from Lisa, turning his back and walking away to rifle through their minifridge. If he was feeling a smidge dizzy, it was just from the sun, and all the salt he had sweat out. Not from Johnny sharing his food with him. Taking care of him.

Mark cracked the seal on the bright orange cap and chugged about half the bottle in one go.

It was definitely just the dehydration, he nodded, looking out the window to see Johnny shaking his long, wet hair at one of the kids on the swim team. They shrieked with delight and paddled off, only for Johnny to give chase, pretending to be a shark out to attack them.

…

There was no way in hell Mark was trying to walk home tonight, or wait around for another two hours until Jaemin's shift ended and he could bring Mark back. Thankfully, Johnny offered up the services of his car again. It was becoming something of a routine. Mark tried not to read into it. Friends gave friends rides home, especially when it barely added ten minutes to their drive home. He was grateful, whatever it meant.

"Jeeeesus fucking christ," Mark moaned, collapsing half into Johnny's passenger seat. He left his legs hanging out the door of the car, not quite ready to commit to getting fully in the heat box. Johnny had turned on the car and started blasting the AC at least, even while leaving his door wide open and standing outside, trying to get some of the heat to escape before actually getting in.

"Dude, I think it's, like, actually two hundred degrees in here."

"Damn close to it," Johnny groaned in agreement, finally folding his long legs into the driver's seat and snapping on his seatbelt. Mark reluctantly pulled his legs in and mirrored the action. "I need ice cream so bad, dude."

"Bro," Mark gasped, pressing his hands over his heart. "It's like you read my mind."

The line at Claudette's was even worse today than the last time Mark had gone with Johnny two weeks ago. Impossibly, even more tourists had flooded the town – and everyone, even the locals, was braving the heat to get that sweet, sweet, ice cream. Or, in Mark's case, watermelon sorbet.

The line snaked out the door, and it took nearly ten minutes before they crossed the threshold into air-conditioned bliss. Mark had been listing over where they stood, eventually giving in and pressing his forehead to Johnny's shoulder blade to stabilize himself. The other boy said nothing, even when Mark's hairline sweat began to soak through the cotton of his staff tank-top, for which Mark was extremely grateful.

"Hey, Junnie," Mark greeted his friend with a wide yawn. It was crazy how the sun could give a person so much energy, and then in turn suck it right out of them. Mark felt like he'd run a marathon or something. "You know whassup."

"Sure," replied Renjun, squinting as he looked between Mark and Johnny. "Sure. Go up to the register, I've got you. And you... What was your name again? Jake? Jake, what do you want?"

"It's Johnny, actually," Johnny corrected easily, sounding nearly bored. "Medium cup of cookie dough, thanks."

"Coming right up," Renjun said flatly.

He must be having an absolutely exhausting shift, Mark thought sympathetically, pursing his lips at how pinched his best friend's face appeared. He slipped a crumpled five into the tip jar while Renjun was busy packing the cups.

This time, it was too hot to bother leaning against the car to eat their desserts. Johnny turned the car on just to run the AC while they sat inside and ate.

"Jaemin did good today, getting that drill," Johnny remarked, apropos of nothing. Mark hummed in agreement, licking pink sorbet off his spoon.

"Yeah," he mused, shoveling another huge bite into his mouth, tongue going slightly numb from the cold. "He's never had a problem shoving people out of the way, if he needs to."

Johnny huffed a little laugh through his nose and bit into the top of his ice cream scoop. Mark looked at him in horror.

"Spoon was taking too long," Johnny offered by way of explanation, smear of ice cream on the tip of his nose. Mark shook his head. He hesitated for a second, then reached up with his crumpled napkin to swipe the ice cream off Johnny's face. Johnny made a funny face, crossing his eyes and wrinkling up his nose, and Mark quickly withdrew his hand and stared back down at his own cup, trying very hard not to blush. "Thanks, bro."

"You're a psychopath," Mark muttered, deflecting. "Who bites ice cream, oh my god."

"My teeth aren't sensitive," Johnny explained blithely. Mark rolled his eyes. "Anyways. Jaemin's one of your friends at school, right? Along with that kid from in there?"

"What, Renjun?" Mark queried, furrowing his brows. "Uh, yeah. They're some of my closest friends. Them, and Jeno and Donghyuck, we're really close. Have been since middle school."

"Yeah, I remember," Johnny snorted, finally using his spoon to dig out a bite from the cup, like a normal person. "Your little posse."

"Hey!" Mark objected, turning to pout at Johnny. He felt fairly offended by that characterization. Johnny raised an eyebrow.

"What, you're gonna deny it? You four were always running around together, wreaking havoc. God, you'd pitch a fit if you were put in different lanes at practice."

"Okay, that was Donghyuck–"

"Don't pretend like you weren't their little leader, Mark," Johnny teased, leaning closer. His face was only a few inches away, now. Mark wet his lips, then quickly shoved another bite of sorbet into his mouth to stop himself before he did something really stupid. Like drop his spoon and grab Johnny by the neck to make out with him in his car.

"They looked up to you," Johnny continued. Mark was taken aback by how sincere he sounded. "For real. Like, I know Donghyuck was a little shit, but you should've heard how he talked about you when you weren't around. He'd go around bragging about how good you were, and how you were his best friend. He was super proud of you. Jeno and Jaemin, too. They used to scream themselves hoarse during your events."

"Wow," Mark muttered, ears burning. He fixed his gaze on his knees. "Jeez. I mean... I guess. They never listened to me, though."

"None of you ever listened to anyone," Johnny responded wryly. Mark opened his mouth to protest again, only to be cut off by a contemplative tilt of Johnny's head. "Well, I guess you did. Usually."

Because I had a massive fucking crush on you, Mark thought. I would've done anything to impress you.

It made Mark want to cringe, remembering how he used to act like an eager puppy with Johnny. Remembering how he didn't act all that different with Johnny, now. Embarrassing.

"Anyways," Johnny was still talking, oblivious to all the internal cringing happening right beside him, "I never saw Renjun around, back then."

"Oh, yeah," Mark blinked, tearing himself away from his memories. He smiled slightly, thinking of Renjun being forced to do the swimming unit during P.E., dripping and shaking like a wet, angry kitten. "Jun hates the water. You couldn't pay him to swim."

"Oh."

Oh? What did that mean? Mark cut Johnny a sideways glance, but the older boy's face wasn't giving anything away.

"Um, yeah," Mark rambled, feeling compelled to fill the silence. "Renjun is one of my best friends, has been since we were, like, ten. He's probably who I'm closest to besides Donghyuck. Oh, and he's dating Donghyuck! They've been together, like, two years."

"Wow," Johnny smirked, shooting Mark a sideways glance. "Kid must have nerves of steel."

"Donghyuck is so whipped for him, dude, it's not even funny," Mark informed him seriously. "For real, he's like, obsessed. Renjun's got him wrapped around his finger, and everyone knows it."

"Well, he sure seems..." Johnny seemed to roll a few words around on his tongue. Mark suddenly felt tense, muscles in his thighs tensing, shoulders bunching up. "Perceptive. And like he thinks he's scary."

"He doesn't think he's scary, he knows he is," Mark corrected. He shot Johnny a quizzical look. Why had he brought this up? What did Johnny mean, ‘perceptive’? Had he read too much into Renjun's flat affect, or something? Shit, did he think – did he think Mark had told Renjun?

It wouldn't be a super off-base assumption, Mark admitted to himself, feeling his insides twist with guilt. He'd told Yeri, after all. Which was arguably worse, because she actually knew Johnny. But still–

"He's tired, today," Mark explained, feeling like he needed to defend Renjun. Against what, he wasn't sure. "Like, did you see that line? It was fucking crazy in there. He must be dead on his feet."

"I bet," Johnny pursed his lips sympathetically. Mark felt some of the tension leave his thighs, forcibly relaxed his shoulders. Johnny was just curious. It was chill. "Crazy how you ended up surrounded by couples, though."

"Oh, jeez, like, I know," Mark agreed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes dramatically. "Dude, I know way too much about their love lives. And sex lives."

"Do you?" Johnny asked wryly. Mark opened one eye.

"They're oversharers," he explained, then felt those nerves well up in him again. "But, like – I mean, not me. Like, I don't. Overshare. I don't feel the need to talk about... that. With them. You know?"

"Sure," Johnny responded, slurping down the last of his ice cream noisily. Mark followed suit, chasing the last of the melted sorbet with his spoon and crumpling up his napkin to shove it inside the empty cup. Johnny threw the car in reverse and wrapped his arm around the back of the passenger seat, craning his neck to check for people behind him. Before backing out of the space, he caught Mark's eye in a significant glance.

"Nothing wrong with talking to your friends about that stuff, Markie. God knows me and my friends do."

Mark sat back in his seat and licked his lips, getting the sticky remnants of dessert off them. Oh. Okay. So Mark had misread things a bit, then.

Cool. That was… cool.

🌊 🌊 🌊

“He took me to Claudette’s again, yesterday,” Mark divulged, gulping down a few swallows from his water bottle. “Renjun saw us. He looked at me funny.”

“Well, what did you expect?” Yeri asked, stealing his water bottle to take a sip from it. She had forgotten hers in the locker room, and was too lazy to go get it now. “This isn’t like, a huge town, Markie. And you literally went to where one of our best friends works. It’s not gonna stay a secret forever if you two keep that kind of shit up.”

“Yeah,” Mark sighed, stretching out his arms and back against the wall. It’s not that he would mind if other people knew. But Johnny had kind of made it sound like he wanted to keep this a secret. Was he worried about their real-adult boss finding out and getting mad? Or did he just not want people to know he was slumming it with Mark?

But then, if Johnny wanted to keep it a secret, why did he take Mark to Claudette’s? And say that thing about talking to his friends? God. The older boy was so confusing.

“You should tell Donghyuck,” Yeri sighed, resting the side of her face on her forearms up against the concrete edge. “And everyone. But especially Hyuckie. I can’t have him trying to kill me.” 

Her legs floated out absently beside her, brushing against Mark’s thigh. He impishly grabbed at her ankle and tugged, making her giggle and kick at him until he let go. 

Yeri’s face sobered again after a moment.

“Don’t distract me,” she scolded, squinting at Mark playfully through her clear goggles. “I’m not gonna have Donghyuck coming for me because he thinks I stole the best friend spot from him.”

“Donghyuck wouldn’t come for you,” Mark muttered petulantly, knowing it was a filthy lie. Considering how much of a social butterfly the younger boy was, he did get intensely suspicious of any new friend Mark made, ever territorial of his One True Bestie status.

Yeri raised a single eyebrow, making Mark crumple and grin at her sheepishly, also coming up to rest his arms on the ledge. He set his forehead down on his cool, slick forearms, relishing the relief from the already burning morning sun. 

“Yeah, okay,” he conceded, letting Yeri laugh at him. “I’ll tell Donghyuck. I wouldn’t want you getting merked before we even had championships, right?”

“Only want me around as long as I’m useful at wrangling the ten and unders, huh? I see how it is!”

 Mark laughed at her again before pushing off the wall, diving underwater and streamlining away before Yeri could slap him with a wet palm. He heard the whooshing of water behind him, the tell-tale sign that Yeri had followed suit and was coming out for another set with him. Mark grinned, closed-mouthed against the pressure of the chlorinated water, and gave himself one final, powerful dolphin kick – breaking the surface and beginning a 100-yard freestyle sprint. 

They had to finish their workout on a high note, after all.

…

There had been a reason Mark had told Yeri first. That reason was fully evident now, as Donghyuck gave Mark his most judgmental side-eye (truly, a very cutting look) and snorted derisively as Mark finished his little tale.

“My dearest, most beloved friend… You are a fucking idiot,” Donghyuck told him, very succinctly. Mark scowled and turned to face him more fully.

“Hey!” he began, dropping the Playstation controller on Hyuck’s black comforter, abandoning his PUBG avatar to be brutally gunned down. Donghyuck made an affronted little noise and slapped Mark’s thigh hard, though whether it was punishment for Mark carelessly abandoning their game or his protest, he didn’t know. “Jesus, Hyuck, why are you being like this?”

“You’re fucking some dude five years older than you—”

“Four and a half,” Mark said, before he could stop himself. Donghyuck blinked at him. Mark felt the apples of his cheeks burn, but repeated himself stubbornly. “He’s four and a half years older.”

“It’s fucking psychotic that you know that,” Donghyuck informed him. “But alright, my bad. You’re fucking some dude four and a half years older than you with ‘no strings attached’, who you’re fucking obsessed with, and you think this is, what– Going to end well? A good idea? Explain.”

“Look, not all of us could be so lucky to pair up with someone in the friend group we’ve had since we were eleven,” Mark told Donghyuck rather crossly. “This town isn’t that big, alright? There aren’t many options for dudes that would want to hook up with me! And I want to get some, you know. Like. Experience. Before I go out to LA.”

Donghyuck didn’t look very convinced. Mark sighed and pushed his hand through his hair, wishing that he hadn’t abandoned the video game so there would be something better than the ‘restart’ screen to distract himself with.

“Look. Isn’t it better that it’s with someone I know? At least we know Johnny, dude, and like, his parents and everything. Wouldn’t you rather I fuck him than some random off Grindr once I’m at UCLA?” 

“Okay,” Donghyuck conceded, swinging his legs up to rest in Mark’s lap casually. He knew that was his best friend’s concession that he would let sleeping dogs lie.

For the afternoon, at least.

…

gucci gang

renjunnie: So. Mark. Care to explain?

mork: oh god

duck: quiet, you

neno: what's going on???

renjunnie: Well that's a great question!!! Why don't you ask MARK!

renjunnie: Our supposed GOOD FRIEND, MARK LEE!

neno: uhhhh

nana: is this about johnathan suh

duck: YOU KNEW??? YOU FUCKING KNEW ABOUT THIS?????????

nana: WAIT SO IT IS ABOUT JOHNNY?>?? WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

nana: I WAS JOKING

mork: can u all. like. chill. Please

renjunnie: No.

mork: ugh fine :<

neno: wait whats going on w johnny why are we talking about johnny

renjunnie: Again. What a great question!! How about you ask MARK!!

mork: well hyuckie clearly already told you

nana: no no mark! dont try to worm your way out of this!! share with the class :-)

mork: dont put smiley faces when youre clearly not smiling :[

nana: dont tell me what to fucking do :-)))

renjunnie: CAN WE GET BACK TO THE POINT??

renjunnie: MARK FUCKED JOHNNY SUH.

neno: holy shitt

neno: i mean like.... get it in tho bro

nana: the fuck is that supposed to mean???

neno: nothing??? just, like.... get it in

nana: are you saying you want to fuck johnny. Our Boss. Johnny.

neno: no????

duck: yes renjun exactly it is INCHERESTING TO ME how mark did not tell us this for TWO WHOLE FUCKING WEEKS

neno: wait u've been fucking for 2 WEEKS???

nana: holy shit .

nana: wow youre better at lying than i thought

mork: i wasnt lying jfc i was just not saying anything. because it is my private business

duck: hilarious that you think you have "private business" lmao i am a coowner in any business you got BITCH

renjunnie: I just can’t believe you didn’t tell us :(( Your first time having anal and you didn’t even ask us for advice?? Smh

mork: yeah wow its almost like thats exactly why i didnt tell u! :)

neno: idk maybe we should lay off mark a bit. we all know now ig

mork: and renjun i have been told ENTIRELY too much about the sex life of everyone in this damn gc i had no need to ask for advice i have unwillingly been subjected to all ur shit already

mork: yes thank you jeno!! that is a great wonderful idea we should all lay off mark :)

nana: well i guess as long as you two dont start acting fucking weird at work....

mork: WE WONT.

mork: WE HAVENT BEEN!!!!!

renjunnie: Is no one else going to address how that man is pushing 30????

neno: you dont come to the pool ever renjun you wouldnt understand

nana: eye mean like.... tbf johnny is hot as fuck

nana: jeno what the fuck does THAT mean that renjun ""wouldnt understand""???

neno: YOU LITERALLY JUST SAID THAT JOHNNY IS HOT AF

nana: WELL /YOU/ DIDNT NEED TO SAY IT!!!!!!

mork: im removing myself from this gc goodbye

Mark Lee has left the chat

Donghyuck Lee has added Mark Lee to the chat

duck: you're never getting rid of us bitch.

🌊 🌊 🌊

The drive-in movie theater was one of the prime spots in town for everyone to hang – Donghyuck could talk through any film without other moviegoers wanting to murder him, Renjun and Jaemin got to drag their friends to the 'classics', and they could load up on snacks from Walgreens and not pay $10 for a single bag of popcorn.

That's where they were, the last Friday in June. Jisung had even brought along his newest girlfriend – whose name was totally escaping Mark at the moment, but it seemed too late to ask now – and they were all set up between Jeno's pickup truck and the minivan Renjun's mom had let him borrow. But Donghyuck had gotten deadly bored about halfway through, the plot of the original ‘Godzilla’ apparently not very gripping to him (Mark, unfortunately, had to agree) and his talking had gotten to the point of annoying Renjun, who threatened to crush his balls under his heel if he didn't shut up. Hyuck had wisely stolen Mark and escaped to the bed of Jeno's pickup, bringing a large blanket with him to wrap around their shoulders. It reminded Mark of when they were little kids and had sleepovers, insisting on building structurally unsound blanket forts and zipping their sleeping bags together on the living room floor.

"So you work with him all five days a week?" Donghyuck whispered, eyebrows shooting up. When Mark nodded in confirmation, Hyuck whistled low between his teeth. "Damn. You lucked out with that schedule, then."

Mark was glad that Donghyuck was trying his best to be supportive, despite his misgivings, and let Mark gush about Johnny. It had been weird not talking with his best friend about something that felt so big to Mark for two whole weeks. He was glad that Johnny didn’t seem to mind his friends knowing.

"Yeah, totally. I mean, like, Johnny made the schedules, but it really did work out in my favor, right?"

"Wait – Johnny made the schedule?" Donghyuck sat up straighter with that information, pinching Mark's thigh when he just sent Hyuck a confused look and a nod. "Dude, he was definitely angling for you. Damn, that is some effort."

"Nah," Mark shook his head, leaning back against the cab of the truck. "Coincidence."

"That would be some fucking coincidence," Donghyuck snorted, poking Mark's quad too hard. He ignored his best friend's hiss of pain.

"What are you trying to say, Hyuckie?"

"It just seems like he made the schedules so he could spend a shitload of time with you, that's all," Donghyuck posited innocently, as if he weren’t saying absolutely delusional things. Mark sighed.

"No way," Mark protested. Donghyuck didn’t know Johnny like Mark did. Johnny was chill, and unbothered, and suave. He definitely wasn’t spending hours plotting ways to spend more time with Mark, especially not last month – before they’d ever even kissed.

Donghyuck hummed, clearly not buying it, but let it drop. They sat in silence for a few minutes, the noise from the movie providing a soundtrack to their stargazing. Mark's foot began tapping unconsciously as he stewed on Donghyuck's words. His friend couldn’t possibly be right. What Donghyuck was suggesting – that Johnny had wanted to hook up with Mark before they even saw each other at the first staff meeting – was like. Impossible. There was no way someone like Johnny was going to all that trouble for someone like Mark.

"It's just that— I have no idea why he's interested in me," Mark confessed, the insecurity something that could only leave his lips in the dark, wrapped in a blanket with his best friend.

"Probably all those thirst traps you posted in May," Donghyuck responded idly, tilting his head back to gaze at the stars. Mark stared at him, mouth agape. His shock went unnoticed.

"Wh– what?!" Mark eventually managed to splutter. "Hyuck, what are you talking about? I don't post any thirst traps!"

"Sure," Donghyuck said sardonically. Mark punched his bicep hard, and the younger winced. "Alright, fine, fine! I guess they aren't really thirst traps. A bunch of photos where you looked super-hot, then."

"Still don't see it."

"Dude, your prom pics and grad photos went up last month," Donghyuck informed him, as if Mark had forgotten about those two huge events. "You looked fucking good, Mark. Especially for grad. You were wearing that floral button-up, remember? And Renjun slicked your hair back? You looked, like, extremely attractive."

"Thanks?" Mark cringed under the weight of the compliments. Donghyuck rarely showered him with sincere affection like this; he was more likely to just pinch Mark's cheek too hard and coo, Cute! at him.

"You are so welcome," Donghyuck clasped his hand over Mark's knee and shook it gently. He looked away from the stars and stared keenly at Mark. "I mean, Johnny's followed you on insta for ages, right? Since you started working at the pool a couple years ago?"

"Yeah?" Mark was not sure where Donghyuck was going with this.

"I bet he saw all those photos, and realized you had glowed up and were all hot now," Hyuck continued. Mark snorted. He wouldn't say he had 'glowed up', but whatever. It was Donghyuck's job as his best friend to hype him (even if he rarely fulfilled that obligation for Mark, usually preferring to mock the hell out of him).

"Well, maybe he did. That doesn’t really mean much, though. I saw Johnny looking hot on instagram all the time, but I wasn’t making plans to like, seduce him. Or whatever."

"Mark, when are the pool schedules made?" Donghyuck asked, apropos to nothing. Mark tilted his head, considering.

"Right before that first staff meeting, they do it over the weekend before. So the end of May, I guess."

"Great! So that would be right after you posted all those sexy graduation pictures, then," Donghyuck clapped his hands, too loud for the drive-in, and settled back against the truck cab comfortably. The slight illumination on his face revealed a far-too-smug expression. "There. I've cracked the code."

"You didn't crack shit."

"I cracked it!"

🌊 🌊 🌊

Like most weekends, and seemingly half the weekdays as well, Mark once again found himself laid out on Johnny’s bed.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this, Markie,” Johnny crooned into his ear, palming Mark’s ass as he ground his hips into him shallowly. “Never seen anyone prettier.” 

Mark tried not to preen too obviously under the praise, but Johnny’s dark chuckle signaled that he’d been caught out.

“What? Is that it?” Johnny asked, words dripping saccharine sweetness. Knowing it was only a front just made Mark even harder. Johnny slapped his ass roughly, and Mark yelped into the pillow.

“Be quiet, Mark,” Johnny taunted him playfully, dropping down to his elbows so his chest blanketed Mark’s back. And oh. This angle was so much better. Johnny’s cock was grinding perfectly over Mark’s prostate every time he thrust in. Mark couldn’t stop himself from moaning again.

“Mark,” Johnny whispered, biting the shell of Mark’s ear. “I know you’re a slut. I love it. But the whole house doesn’t need to hear it, hm?”

Fuck. Fuck. Mark clenched his eyes shut, grinding his dick against the sheets.

“You like that, don’t you?” Johnny asked, leaning back slightly and spreading Mark’s asscheeks so he could grind deeper, see himself fitting inside Mark’s body. “You like being my slut?”

“Y-yeah,” Mark was impressed that he even managed a broken whisper. “Johnny, ‘m close – please, please–”

“You know I love it when you beg.”

Johnny worked his hand between Mark and the bedspread, firmly gripping his cock. Mark had leaked enough precum to make the comforter damp, and Johnny’s hand slid smoothly along the length.

“Gorgeous,” Johnny murmured, squeezing the tip of Mark’s cock. Mark could feel his balls drawing up, he was so close– “My beautiful slut, you’re so pretty like this Mark, so pretty when you beg.”

The stream of praise was the final push for Mark, and he came with a sob all over Johnny’s fist and bedspread. Johnny followed before Mark was fully finished, a shuddering gasp and unsteady hips rocking into Mark as he filled up the condom.

Mark winced slightly as Johnny pulled out, still not used to the sudden emptiness. He tried to stretch his legs and back slightly as Johnny disposed of the condom, moving over to a drier spot on the bed. Johnny joined him there shortly.

Mark curled on his side and traced absent patterns over Johnny’s chest, waiting for his breathing to even out.

“Dude,” Mark asked, raspy and fucked out. “How often do you have to do your laundry?”

Johnny looked at Mark in disbelief for a moment, then burst into hysterical laughter.

“Way too often,” he gasped, rolling onto his back and rubbing over his abs, like they hurt from laughing too hard. Mark grinned fondly at him. “Way too fucking often. Jesus, Mark. There really is no one like you, huh?”

Mark decided to take it as a compliment, and he snuggled down into his dry patch of the comforter happily.

🌊 🌊 🌊

“Alright, let’s place our bets now. Who’s gonna call out on the fourth?” Johnny asked, hiding a yawn behind his hand. Mark groaned, resting his forehead on the table. Working July 4th was the worst. Everyone tried to call out.

Drawbacks of working at a pool in the summer – even on national holidays, you had to stay open. You especially had to stay open, because everyone else who had the day off work flooded the place.

“God, I wish. At least there’s no swim practice that morning or the next,” Mark grumbled, mournfully opening his snack bag full of goldfish. He chewed one morosely. “The weather’s supposed to be nice. It’s going to be hell.”

“You would never call out on a holiday,” Lisa rolled her eyes, fondly poking Mark in the bicep. “You’re too responsible. That’s why you’re my favorite!”

“Okay, so who do we think will be the first to call out?” Johnny asked.

Mark perked up. He made eye contact with Johnny, then Lisa. At the same time, all three of them spoke:

“Jaemin.”

“Yep.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a given.”

“But who else?” Johnny asked, stretching his arms above his head. It pulled the hem of his shirt up so Mark could see a sliver of his abs, and the fine dark hairs Mark liked to run his fingers along – he looked away quickly. He’d seen Johnny shirtless a hundred times over the years. He was not going to blush over a tiny peek of skin.

Lisa gave Sungchan, sitting rod-straight on chair one, a considering look. “Do you think–”

“Nah,” Johnny shook his head, propping his heels up on Mark’s knees. Lisa snapped them with her towel, but Johnny didn’t withdraw. Mark couldn’t say he really minded being made Johnny’s personal ottoman. “Stop that, Lisa, I need to stretch my legs! Like I was saying, no way is Sungchan gonna skip. The kid’s terrified of messing up. He’s a rule follower.”

“Reminds me of someone else we know during their first summer,” Lisa shot Mark a teasing grin, jostling his shoulder companionably. Mark returned the gesture. It was a more than accurate assessment, honestly, and Lisa had been so kind to him no matter how many nervous questions Mark asked her.

“Yeri,” Mark put forth, making Johnny raise an eyebrow. Lisa hummed and nodded, like she could see it.

“Isn’t Yeri one of your best friends?” Johnny asked dubiously.

“Yeah? So is Jaemin? Anyways, that just means I’m even more likely to be right,” Mark shrugged, pouring a handful of goldfish into his mouth. He spoke through the crunch. “There’s no swim practice Thursday, so she’ll call out in a heartbeat. She wouldn’t wanna let down the team, but she could give a fuck if we suffer a bit on rotation.”

Lisa snorted. “Same, girl. Same.”

“Don’t even think about calling out Lisa, I swear to god–”

“I’ll do what I want, Johnathan. And if I coincidentally happened to get a 24-hour bug, you wouldn’t want me bringing it here and infecting the staff, would you?”

…

Johnny leaned up against chair two, casually swinging his whistle in a circle around his fingers, winding it and unwinding it and mildly hypnotic fashion.

Mark whistled loudly as one of his swim team charges executed a rather excellent swan dive from the board, and Johnny shouted enthusiastically. When the line of people going off the diving board trickled off, Johnny tapped two fingers on Mark’s shin.

“You doing anything fun tomorrow for the fourth?” Johnny asked idly. “I realized I didn’t ask if you had plans.”

“Oh! Well, I forgot to ask too,” Mark pointed out. He was a bit surprised that Johnny was asking at all. They didn’t really… talk about much outside of work and sex. Mark definitely didn’t tell Johnny about the plans he made with friends on random days, and Johnny didn’t tell Mark about his either. 

This wasn’t dating, Mark reminded himself. This was casual. No strings.

“My friend Chenle – you know the Zhongs, right? Yeah, those Zhongs – his parents are going to like, St. Thomas or something for the holiday, so he’s housesitting for them.”

“So he’s throwing a rager,” Johnny translated easily. Mark laughed brightly and nodded, swinging his feet slightly. Johnny whistled lowly. “Damn, that’ll be nice. Having a house party in a beach mansion right on the sand… that’s deluxe.”

A pang of guilt suddenly struck Mark. He peered down at Johnny and wet his lips, squirming awkwardly in the chair. How rude was it of him to talk about a party Johnny hadn’t been invited to right in front of Johnny?

“You can… you know, like, if you wanna come, you’re welcome,” Mark told him, honestly. Chenle could not give less of a fuck who showed up, as long as they didn’t cause problems. Mark rubbed his lips together. Even if Chenle didn’t care if Johnny came to the party… Mark couldn’t really imagine Johnny hanging out with Mark’s friend group.

“No thanks,” Johnny snorted, like he was reading Mark’s mind. He stepped onto the bottom rung and slapped Mark’s bicep companionably. “I mean, I appreciate the invite, but no offense…”

“You don’t want to come to a high school house party,” Mark finished wryly. Johnny grinned at him, whiskers showing at the corner of his eyes.

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “Besides, my parent’s have a cookout every year. They’d kill me if I skipped out.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mark said in a tone of realization. “My parents are going to that!”

“Well, I’ll say hi when I see them,” Johnny offered, stepping down from the chair.

“Sure.”

At least that would be less awkward than Mark’s run-in with Mrs. Suh last week, when he was trying to sneak out of Johnny’s bedroom and back to his car, parked out on the curb of the neighbors house. As if that were somehow more discreet. Mrs. Suh had smiled brightly at him, offered him sliced mango, and then informed him to feel free to park in front of their yard instead of the Jackson’s.

Mark had wanted to die. Mrs. Suh was so nice, but she was not at all stupid. She knew exactly what Mark was getting up to with Johnny. His ears had burned red the whole ride home.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Mark was nearly done with his second Truly (watermelon-kiwi flavored, supplied specially for him by Chenle – well, or whoever Chenle’s supplier was, that is) and grinning at everyone in the den. ‘Independence Day’ was playing on the flat screen, there was a whole minibar packed with snacks and drinks, a supremely comfy sectional and a couple La-Z-Boys to boot. It was a chiller vibe than the rest of the house, especially the large living room, which Chenle had enlisted his friends to clear of furniture earlier today to turn it into a better dance floor. He’d even bought a disco ball to hang from the ceiling in there. It was fucking sick, but it was also nice to chill out in a more lowkey room for a bit, the noises of the rager only mildly buffeting at the walls. 

Mark gazed fondly around the room, smiling indulgently at his friends – even Renjun and Donghyuck, who were tangled up in a recliner so thoroughly he couldn’t tell whose limbs were whose, showing no signs of coming up for air. His eyes fell on a head of freshly pink hair, and Mark smiled proudly across the room at his youngest friend, the boy who his group had adopted as their little swim protégée.

Jisung had shot up like a beanpole the last year, and always had at least a few girls hanging around him now. Added to the fact that Mark was pretty sure he was an angel in disguise for dealing with Chenle as his best friend, he hadn’t been sans girlfriend for a hot minute. Mark was shamefully bad at keeping track of them all. He knew the girl perched on Jisung’s lap right now had gone to the drive-in with them, but he still wasn’t sure–  

“Is that Ashley?” he leaned over to Chenle and tried to hiss quietly. “Or Jess?”

“It’s Marie,” Chenle informed him, loudly. Mark tried to slide down the couch in hopes that no one would see him. It did not work. 

The girl, Marie if Chenle was to be believed, hit Mark with a flat look. He winced and stared down at his shoes, trying not to cringe too visibly. Jisung saved him by squeezing her hand and resting his head on her shoulder, smiling dopily up at her, saving Mark from her unimpressed eyes as she cooed down at her boyfriend and pressed a lipgloss kiss to his cheek.

“I’m gonna go dance,” Mark muttered to the room at large, heaving himself out of the sunken couch cushion with no small effort. Chenle just cackled at him some more, shamelessly throwing his legs across the couch where Mark had just vacated, and waggled his fingers at him playfully. Mark flipped him off.

…

He wasn’t sure how long he danced for, but his appropriately festive blue t-shirt was stuck to his back with sweat, and the roots of his hair felt soaked as well. Mark stumbled into the kitchen and yanked open the fridge, grabbing another precious watermelon-kiwi hard seltzer and popping the tab. He drained it in one go, smacking his lips and burping happily. Sweet, sweet hydration.

Mark was supposed to crash at Chenle’s with the rest of his friends. His sleeping bag was already rolled out on the plush carpet of the younger’s absolutely massive bedroom, but he didn’t want that now. Mark frowned down at the empty, skinny can in his hand and crushed it with a sigh, trying to press it down on the overflowing pile of the recycling bin. He tried not to pout at the kitchen sink, but – he was already kinda tired, feeling syrupy and slow, and this party showed no signs of letting up. Besides, he was pretty sure he’d seen Renjun and Hyuck sneak up to Chenle’s room early, and he wasn’t touching that with a ten-foot pole. 

Mark didn’t blame them, though. Drinking always made him… well, kind of horny. He had fished his phone out of his back pocket before he could even think about it, screen too-bright and swimming in his vision a bit, tapping through to his recent calls and staring at the list of names, too small to properly read. 

“Hello? Mark?” a deep voice came through his phone’s speaker, somehow pressed up near his ear. Mark pulled it away and blinked down at the screen in delight. 

“Johnny!” he crowed happily. What a nice surprise, to hear Johnny’s voice tonight! “I thought you were busy with the… the cookout thing!”

Mark stumbled over his words slightly, and Johnny chuckled fondly. Mark couldn’t help but smile and cradle his phone closer, trying not to preen in front of the three strangers now in the kitchen with him, pawing through the massive fridge.

“That’s pretty much over, baby,” Johnny informed him, and Mark hummed. He leaned back against the counter and soaked in Johnny’s voice.

“I’m drunk,” Mark informed him. Johnny snorted.

“Yeah, no shit,” he replied. Mark pouted, whining slightly into his phone.

“Don’t be mean to me!” he turned to stare out the window at the blackness intercut by occasional starbursts from neighborhood fireworks. “’M drunk! And like, horny. I haven’t gotten off in days, Johnny, it’s been ages .”

“You poor thing.” Johnny sounded far too amused for Mark’s liking. He sighed loudly.

“‘M tired,” he breathed, feeling his eyelashes flutter slowly against his cheek. He lifted his finger up to brush against them, the soft little ends tickling at him. It made him giggle. 

“I’ll come pick you up,” Johnny said, voice smooth in Mark’s ear, even over the bass thumping through the tile floor, and the beginnings of an argument going down at the fridge. “The Zhong’s house, right? Off Beach Ave and Sandpiper? I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“‘Kay,” Mark sighed, blinking his eyes back open. “You’re the best, Johnny.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

There was nothing else, after a moment. Mark pulled the phone away from his face and saw his home screen. Johnny had hung up. He shook his head, trying to clear some of the haze, and shoved his phone back in his pocket. Mark flipped the faucet on and stuck his head under the water, getting a few gulps of water mostly in his mouth and only slightly down his t-shirt.

 It would be a good idea to wait outside. He didn’t want to make Johnny have to come in and find him; that would be so rude. Johnny was already being so nice, picking him up. He even offered! Mark hadn’t even needed to ask! That was so caring of him. 

Mark smiled dopily to himself as he swiped a mini-cupcake, red and blue frosted, off the long granite island and wandered out to the foyer. A proper foyer, with a diamond chandelier that glinted a million little sparkles as Mark blinked up at him.

“Mark? Is that you?”

A familiar, sweet voice cut through his drunken admiration. Mark whipped his head around, getting a bit unsteady on his feet. Huge palms reached out to steady him, bony fingers hooking around into his shoulder blades.

“Markie!” Jungwoo cheered, swooping down to press a wet kiss to his cheek. Mark grinned widely up at the older boy, now pulling him under his chin for a ‘proper hug’, as he’d always liked to call them at school. 

“Woo!” Mark returned, equally loudly. He reached up to pet Jungwoo's hair, a ginger color he’d never seen on the other boy before. “You have new hair! It’s so pretty, wow.”

“Thank you, Markie,” Jungwoo’s full cheeks flushed prettily, and Mark blinked up at him in a happy daze. “You’re so pretty. You’re growing up so nicely.”

“Ah, Woo,” Mark tried to evade the compliment, ducking his head down. Jungwoo just giggled at him, pulling him closer for another hug, rocking him on his feet.

“Come dance with me,” the tall boy ordered in that funny imperious voice he put on sometimes, wide mouth grinning down at Mark. “It’s been forever.”

“Okay!” Mark agreed easily. It really had been forever. It’d been, what, nearly a year since he’d last seen Jungwoo? Maybe more than that. They’d been close Mark’s first two years of high school, when Jungwoo had taken him on as his swim team little, but hadn’t really reconnected ever since the elder graduated. “I missed you, Woo!”

“I missed you too!”

It was a blur after that, between doing a shot with Jungwoo and biting the slice of lime between his fingers coyly, to grinding up on him under the living room disco ball to the newest Drake release, to making out with Jungwoo, fingers crawling up under his shirt and tracing the lines of his abs.

Jungwoo kissed wetter than Johnny. His mouth was soft, and pliant, and sloppy on Mark’s. It made Mark want to giggle, so he did, licking over the seam of Jungwoo’s mouth before turning in his arms and grinding his ass back on Jungwoo’s hips. A smooth hand clasped Mark’s waist beneath the shirt firmly – no calluses at the base of his fingers from lifting weights like Johnny had – and Mark hooked his elbow around Jungwoo’s neck to keep kissing him. It was even sloppier from this angle, a complete mess that made Mark shake with laughter. Jungwoo felt the contractions of his abs beneath his hand and succumbed to the giggles too, but it didn’t stop him from trying to suck Mark’s tongue into his mouth.

“Hey.”

A loud voice cut through Mark’s drunk, horny daze. He detached his lips from Jungwoo and blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. Someone was standing right in front of him, standing tall and proud and unmoved by all the dancing bodies around him.

“Johnny!” Mark cried, absolutely delighted. He’d nearly forgotten Johnny was coming! How nice of him! He told Johnny this enthusiastically, then introduced Jungwoo.

“I know Johnny! We swam together in high school!” Jungwoo giggled in Mark’s ear. Mark smiled brightly up at Johnny, just as he knew Jungwoo was doing behind him. Jungwoo was so nice.

Johnny arched a dark eyebrow and lifted up his hand, showing Mark the keys dangling from his fingers.

“Time to go, Mark.”

“Oh, right!” Mark startled, stumbling out of Jungwoo’s hold in his haste to leave the house. Shit, shit . He hadn’t meant to make Johnny wait. He definitely hadn’t meant to make Johnny come inside and find him. This was so rude of him. 

He thought Jungwoo might have called out a farewell, but Mark was already busy hustling out of the house, winding through people with muttered apologies.

The cool night air felt sobering immediately. Mark paused for a second on the front porch, standing with his eyes closed and letting it wash over his sweaty skin. He could still hear the music out here, but also the low, constant hum of cicadas. The low level noise was interspersed with the occasional clap of fireworks, that would go off sporadically for the rest of the night. A light touch to his lower back made Mark open his eyes again and take a deep breath, trailing after Johnny.

“Sorry,” Mark apologized, reaching out and grabbing Johnny’s hand. He paid no mind to the car keys digging into the soft flesh of his palm. “Sorry Johnny! I didn’t want you to have to wait.”

Johnny glanced down at him and snorted slightly. 

“You’re damn lucky you’re so cute.”

Mark preened, pouting slightly as Johnny pulled his hand away. It was immediately rectified by Johnny slowing his steps and looping his arm around Mark’s waist.

“So, you looked awfully close with Jungwoo back there,” Johnny muttered, tucking Mark into his side as he practically dragged him out to his car. Mark giggled, stumbling over the curb, saved from face-planting only by Johnny’s strong arm around his waist. He squeezed his arm appreciatively, momentarily sidetracked by the fine, curly hair trapped under his fingers.

“Yeah,” he finally responded, blinking up at Johnny. His face seemed a bit funny, like this. Mostly in shadow, only lit up by the too-spaced out street lamps and the porch lights a few homes left on. “We’re friends! We used to swim together in high school, you know?”

“You like that with all your ‘friends’?” Johnny asked lowly.

“My close ones,” Mark winked, felt half his face move with his eyelid, and nearly collapsed into giggles. He tried to muffle them in Johnny’s shoulder, warm beneath his faded t-shirt. He got sidetracked again, by how nice Johnny’s skin smelt – he must’ve taken a shower just before Mark drunk dialed him. He snuffled against his neck, enjoying the tickle of hair against his nose.

“I’m like that with you,” he whispered, nuzzling just beneath Johnny’s ear. The arm around his waist flexed; Mark could feel fingers digging into his side.

“You’re not like that with me,” Johnny growled, pulling Mark right in front of him, crushing him to his chest. His eyes were shaded like this, impossible to see in this quiet street, empty except for them and the cicadas. “If that had been me, you would’ve been grabbing my dick in the middle of the living room, begging me to fuck you in front of everyone.”

Mark blinked up at Johnny, felt his lips part. Johnny squeezed him even closer, so tight he gasped. His free hand came up to Mark’s mouth; pressing two fingers to Mark’s lower lip, barely dipping inside his mouth.

“You’re a slut with me, baby,” he whispered, and Mark felt his knees buckle. He nearly fell and dragged the elder down with him, Johnny’s muscles the only thing keeping them both upright.

“’M not a slut,” Mark whined, shaking his head. Johnny pressed his fingers down punishingly, slid them an inch into Mark’s mouth. Nearly involuntarily, Mark closed his lips around them, suckling. His tongue dragged over the callouses on the pads. 

“Oh, yes you are,” Johnny chuckled, and for the first time since he showed up he sounded amused. Like Mark’s Johnny.

He shook his head again to clear it of that wild, stray thought. He wasn’t Mark’s Johnny. He didn’t belong to him.

Johnny shoved his fingers fully in Mark’s mouth, as if to gag him. He must’ve thought Mark had disagreed with him again. Mark choked for a moment, eyes wide pools, staring pleadingly up at the taller man. They were in the middle of the street. Anyone could look out their window and see their silhouettes, wrapped too tightly around each other to be anything but lovers.

Mark shot his best puppy eyes up at the taller boy, slightly mitigated by the inebriated glaze taking over his vision. Johnny relented, drawing the long fingers out of his mouth slowly, catching each joint on Mark’s full lower lip. Mark pressed his mouth closed and rubbed his lips together, like he was spreading chapstick, and stared dopily up at the figure in front of him, silhouetted by moonlight.

Mark might have been drunk, but he was positively swimming in Johnny’s eyes. They were so pretty, all dark and wide and reflective. The stars were like the little glints reflecting off the surface of the ocean on a calm night, black and glossy. The fireworks had become background sound at this point, pops and booms that barely registered, but even facing away from the coast Mark could see the starbursts in Johnny’s gaze. He swayed forward, unmoored by the dizzying heights his desire, his infatuation, had reached. His tongue poked out to wet his lips, leaning on tiptoe to press his mouth to Johnny’s, and Johnny was already leaning down –

A clatter startled them, making Mark jump in place and whip his head around. There was a faint rumbling noise, voices too far away to distinguish, then the sharp pitch of laughter.

Tourists. Drunk tourists. They must have snuck on to the private beach to drink and watch the fireworks, and were now dropping empty beer cans on the street and stumbling loudly back to their car. The racket of their giggling and shouting was getting closer, and Mark could see the white shine of a phone flashlight.

“Come on,” Johnny instructed lowly, making Mark turn back to him. He didn’t realize his mouth was still hanging open, slightly parted, until the elder boy put two fingers beneath his chin and pressed his jaw shut. “Let’s get you home.”

“Okay,” Mark breathed, nodding enthusiastically. Home sounded great.

Johnny’s teeth glinted like he might have been grinning, and he pushed at Mark’s shoulders, ushering him ahead to the car. Mark went obediently, only catching his toe on the asphalt and tripping a few times. Johnny’s grip on his shoulder kept him upright, and with every stumble, Mark giggled, reaching up to squeeze the steadying hand affectionately.

“Jesus, Markie, how much did you even drink?” Johnny asked, tinged with what Mark hoped was fond exasperation.

“Like... four Trulys?” Mark’s voice turned up at the end, trying to count his drinks out on his fingers. “Yeah. Four!”

“Holy fuck,” Johnny muttered, with a soft huff of laughter. “Of course you’re a total lightweight. Of course.”

“Hyungg,” Mark whined, the honorific falling from his tongue like it was natural, like he and Johnny ever spoke Korean to each other. “Don’t tease!”

“Oh my god,” Johnny said, herding Mark along to his parking spot (probably a good third of a mile from Chenle’s mansion, the street was so packed with cars). “Fuck. Mark.”

Mark preened a bit under the way Johnny’s fingers tightened to a bruising grip on his shoulder, and he tried to tilt his head back to give the elder his best bedroom eyes. Johnny ignored him, staring straight ahead and hustling him along down the sandy road. Mark whined for his attention again.

“Hush up, now,” Johnny admonished, but his free hand drifted up to touch lightly at the base of Mark’s throat. “Wait until we’re in the car, at least, jeez.”

That was rich, coming from the guy who’d shoved his fingers down Mark’s throat directly outside Chenle’s house, but whatever. Mark pursed his lips into a moue, but it did nothing to sway Johnny. Mark tracked the bob of his Adam's apple greedily as Johnny swallowed.

“Get in the car, Mark. I need to take you home.” Johnny’s voice was so quiet Mark nearly couldn’t hear it. 

Mark sighed dramatically in defeat, flinging open the passenger door and crawling in. He immediately settled in with a happy noise, closing his eyes and snuggling back against the seat. He heard Johnny mutter something that sounded fond, and maybe like ‘Unbelievable’, but he ignored it. His eyelids fluttered open when he felt the warmth of Johnny’s body over him, leaning across the console to grab Mark’s seatbelt and buckle it into place. Mark adjusted the shoulder strap slightly then laid the side of his face on it, resting his head there so he could watch Johnny start the car and drive off. Johnny’s side profile was so much more interesting than the road.

As were his thighs. Johnny was wearing baggy jeans tonight, tragically – unlike Mark, whose black jeans were tight enough that they had necessitated boxer briefs and Mark hopping in his bedroom to get them pulled up all the way. But even through the loose, light-wash denim, Johnny’s thighs looked amazing. Mark wanted to fuck them. Was that weird? Was that a weird thing to want?

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny muttered, but he sounded on the verge of laughter. “No, it’s not weird. We can try it sometime.”

“Oh. Okay!” Mark hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but he was content with that answer. “Awesome. Can I suck you off?”

Johnny’s hands twitched on the steering wheel, knuckles white.

“No. No, Mark.”

Mark pouted as hard as he could, which did him no good because Johnny was looking at the road , not Mark’s face. Unfair. Unjust! He settled for whining high in the back of his throat then, so Johnny could hear him.

“Johnnyyyy,” he complained. “I’m so horny right now. You’re so hot. Wan’ you to fuck me in the backseat, I'll beg as much as you want. I wanna get off, please can I get off?”

“Just – just hold on a second,” Johnny’s voice sounded strange, but Mark was too drunk to place the emotion. He flipped his blinker on, and took a turn Mark vaguely recognized as not leading to the Lee house. That was fine by Mark. He reached out and settled his palm on Johnny’s quad, stroking lightly up and down the fabric. The denim was kind of soft, with tiny little frayed spots that tickled Mark’s palm.

“Mark,” Johnny warned, hand dipping down to pick Mark’s up by the wrist. He deposited it unceremoniously back in Mark’s lap before putting both hands on the wheel. “You’re not touching me tonight. You’re too drunk.”

“That’s so unfair,” Mark groaned. Well, if he couldn’t feel Johnny up… he palmed over his own crotch. It felt nice; not as nice as Johnny’s hand, but good. It helped that Johnny was right next to him. Mark ground his hips up against his palm lazily, planting his feet on the car floor.

Mark startled when the car came to a sudden stop. He looked out the windows, eyebrows furrowed. This looked pretty familiar.

“Mark, do you still want to get off?” Johnny asked. Mark raised his eyebrows at him, looking significantly down at the bulge in his jeans, which Mark was still palming over. Johnny rolled his eyes slightly, corners of his mouth twitching. “Do you want me to help you get off?”

“Oh,” Mark breathed, glancing out the windshield again. He recognized this patch of road, now. It was about a mile past one of the local equestrian stables, by a patch of woods and overgrown roadside foliage, tall grasses and wildflowers. There were no streetlights. Mark had gone parking here several times with his ex-girlfriend. Johnny must have too, back when he was in high school. “Oh. Yeah, Johnny, yes. Help me cum.”

Johnny slid fluidly out of the driver’s side door, and Mark scrambled to follow him. Johnny came around to his side of the car, the side facing the woods. The Crosstrek was tall enough to protect both of them from view on the other side of the road. Johnny yanked open the back door, then suddenly stopped. Mark peered around his arm.

As per usual, the backseat was an absolute disaster. There was no way the two of them would be able to fit. Hell, one person couldn’t even sit back there.

“Dude, you need to clean your car.”

“Dude, I know,” Johnny responded sarcastically. Mark snorted. Johnny slammed the door closed with a sigh of defeat, then backed Mark up against the car. Mark leaned back on the cool metal, blinking up at Johnny.

Johnny’s forearms rested on the top ridge of the car, caging Mark in and looming over him. He could barely see the night sky past Johnny’s face. Mark fisted his hands in Johnny’s white tee, pulling him in closer. Close enough that his gorgeous thighs bumped against Mark. He hissed, unconsciously rutting forward. Fuck, he was still so hard.

“Like that,” Johnny breathed. He was staring at Mark’s face intently. “Get yourself off just like that.”

He wanted Mark to grind against his thigh until he came? That was kind of embarrassing, but mostly really hot. 

Mark moaned, and his hips stuttered forward again. It felt really good, even though his pants were so tight it was painful.

Mark’s hand drifted down to the button of his jeans, but the shake of Johnny’s head stopped him.

“No, keep them on,” he instructed, dipping down to bury his face in the crook of Mark’s neck. The sweat there had dried during the car ride, leaving his skin sticky. Johnny didn’t seem to mind, judging by how he wetly mouthed over Mark’s pulse. Then he bit.

Mark yelped, but the sting of the bite quickly ebbed away into the pulse of arousal. It was like Johnny sucking on his skin was shooting signals down his nerve endings directly to Mark’s dick, making him throb as he ground against Johnny’s thick thigh. Johnny pressed a few light kisses along Mark’s clavicle, then bit down again. And again.

Mark clamped Johnny’s leg between both of his own, riding Johnny’s thigh hard. The rough friction was dulled down just enough to make his head spin. Trapped between the car and Johnny’s body, Mark chased his orgasm frantically, grinding down hard. It wasn’t as good as fucking Johnny’s thighs would be, but next time… next time— 

Mark’s orgasm hit him quickly, making him curse and bite Johny’s shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, a mirror to the ring of bruises Johnny had left around Mark’s neck. A warm wet spot spread slowly over the crotch of Mark’s jeans as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm, hips twitching forward weakly. 

Mark winced as he slumped back against the car, head hitting the edge of the window painfully. It was gonna be a bitch to clean dried cum out of his pubes tonight when he stumbled into the shower, but it was worth it.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, words muffled into Johnny’s shirt. Johnny’s hand came up to cup the side of his face. He rubbed his thumb over Mark’s cheekbone gently. Mark turned into the contact, blinking up at Johnny. He could just barely make out the stars behind him, now, obscured by the sulfurous smoke of hundreds of fireworks.

“Let’s get you home now,” Johnny responded in the same quiet tone. “For real, this time.”

Mark laughed and punched Johnny in the bicep, ducking out from under his arm to climb back in the passenger side.

He’d probably have a dozen mosquito bites on his arms come morning, but all in all, it’d been a pretty good July 4th. 

 …

Mark was grateful that he didn’t have to coach Thursday morning, because he probably would have died. As it were, suffering through his shift with a pounding headache was bad enough. The bright sun infiltrated past his shades, and even two bottles of gatorade couldn't quite mitigate the sweaty, miserable edge of the aftermath of a night drinking and too little sleep.

At least by Friday morning swim practice, Mark’s hangover had finally gone away. 

Unfortunately, the collar of hickies encircling his neck and chest had not.

Yeri whistled lowly, staring somewhere in the vicinity of Mark’s chest out of the corner of her eye.

“Damn, boi,” she laughed, hushed. “Who used you as their personal chew-toy, hm?”

“Shut up, Yerim,” Mark hissed in response, shrinking back into the neck of his sweatshirt like a turtle. She knew damn well who.

Yeri cackled loudly, drawing the attention of a few swimmers catching their breath at the wall, waiting for their lane mates to get far enough it would be safe to push off after them. Mark felt himself turning red, and steadily ignored his friend.

“Keep it pushing!” he shouted, giving the team members at the wall a thumbs up. “Eyes on the clock guys, don’t miss your cuts! You got this!”

“And you got some,” Yeri tacked on under her breath, snickering to herself. Mark elbowed her in the shoulder. “Hey! You got laid, why are you being so touchy? Jeez! Maybe Johnny should’ve worried more about fucking the stick out of your ass and less about collaring you with those bruises. Christ.”

“If you don’t shut your mouth,” Mark threatened. Yeri rolled her eyes and flicked the back of his head.

“What will you do, Mark? Pout at me? Feel free. I’m immune to the puppy eyes.”

Mark did, in fact, pout at her. Yeri remained unmoved.

Couldn’t get ‘em all, he supposed.

🌊 🌊 🌊

“Hey, Johnny,” Mark asked, poking at a cube of watermelon with his fork. Johnny hummed lazily, not lifting his eyes from his phone. “Do you think I could catch a ride home tonight?”

He’d gotten a bit better at asking Johnny for things over the past month. It helped that Johnny basically always said yes to Mark, lessening the swell of anxiety that plagued Mark every time he made a request.

“Aw, I’m sorry Markie,” Johnny pursed his lips, and he really did look apologetic. 

Mark felt his heart sink – was he getting too overbearing? Was he asking Johnny for rides too often? He drove Mark home practically half the time. Now that Mark was thinking about it, that was clearly way too much. Especially just for a fuckbuddy. His fingers spasmed around his fork, and an apology welled up in his throat.

“I wish I could, but I’m actually taking off early today. I have to pick up my friend Taeyong from the airport.”

Mark froze for a moment, then took a breath. Oh. Okay. Maybe Mark wasn’t being annoying and needy? Johnny didn’t sound irritated or anything.

“Oh! No way, that’s cool. How long is he staying?” Mark managed to ask. He tried not to pat himself on the back too much for his smooth recovery.

“A week. Our friend Yuta is coming out too. My parents are going to California for a week to celebrate their anniversary, so the boys are keeping me company while I housesit,” Johnny explained, face growing brighter as he spoke his friend’s names aloud. Mark mirrored his smile fondly. “I haven’t seen them for like two months, since we graduated. They were my roommates for three years.”

“That’s so cool, that you were close with your roommates,” Mark said, trying not to sound envious. He hoped he found people at UCLA who liked him enough to take a flight to visit him, even after they graduated. 

“They’re the best,” Johnny informed him happily. “I took a few days off next week to show them around, but they’re gonna tag along for a couple of my shifts. You’ll like them a lot, I think.”

“I’m sure I will, if they’re anything like you” Mark agreed absently, tapping his phone on his thigh. Maybe he could ask Jeno if he could hitch a ride home? Or text his mom… 

“I think they’ll like you too,” Johnny said with undue confidence. Mark nodded. Sure. Most likely they wouldn’t have an opinion on him either way. Privately, Mark took a moment to mourn the loss of a week's worth of stolen moments with Johnny. He probably wouldn’t want Mark hanging around, not when he had two better options for company staying at his house.

Mark smiled at Johnny a final time before he trudged over to visit Jeno at chair two to ask for a ride. Probably should ask for next week, too, while he was at it.

🌊 🌊 🌊

johnny: wanna come over??

mark: hey!! 

mark: sure but i thought u said ur friends from school were here to visit..??

johnny: they are

johnny: taeyong’s already here, but yuta’s uber isn't gonna get here for like a half hour

johnny: we’re just getting pizza and watching the drag race finale if you wanna come over and chill. they’re both really cool

mark: sounds fun dude

mark: i’ll be over in 15

johnny:  👍👍

Johnny had changed out of his work clothes by the time Mark showed up at his house, and Mark was grateful that he’d decided to change too. And that his mom didn’t need her car tonight.

“Hey, dude,” Johnny greeted him, yawning lazily and leading Mark into the living room. “Hey, Taeyong! Mark’s here.”

“Oh, hi!” Mark waved at Taeyong, who was one of those people so insanely pretty it was hard to even look at their face too long. Taeyong glanced up from his screen and gave him a heart-melting smile, returning the wave. And then he buried his nose in the screen again. 

“He’s been fucking glued to his phone,” Johnny whispered to Mark, sotto voice. He swung his arm around his waist and pulled him into his side. “He and his boyfriend struggle with object permanence. If they’re not texting each other, does the other really exist?”

“Like Schrodinger’s boyfriend,” Mark responded, inordinately proud when Johnny snickered into his hair. Taeyong shot a glance up at them through narrowed eyes.

“Doyoung loves me,” he sniffed, curling his legs up onto the chair with him. “We’ve lived together for two years. We’re not used to being separated! He likes talking to me, Johnny, and I like talking to him. So suck it.”

“That’s awesome,” Mark congratulated him, sincerely. He ignored Johnny’s snort from above his head. It was awesome! Like… he wasn’t jealous, but. That must be nice. Knowing someone loved you that much. That they didn’t think you were annoying, or get sick of talking to you. Taeyong smiled at him again, barely showing his front teeth, and curled his toes into the chair cushion.

“You’re too nice to be hanging around Johnny,” he told Mark, sounding half a measure too serious. Mark chuckled nervously.

The doorbell rang, breaking the moment that had suddenly gotten weirdly tense. Johnny released Mark, who tried not to sway back towards the warmth of his body.

“Must be Yuta,” he grunted. “I’m gonna grab a beer once I let him in. Want anything?” 

Mark just folded his lips together and shook his head. Was that weird? Had he made it weird? Mark, like, drank! Sometimes. With his friends his age, who drank equally shit stuff and had seen him humiliate himself too many times for him to care anymore. But Mark knew if he started drinking, he’d probably keep going, not wanting to look like a lightweight in front of Johnny again. And he didn’t want to get drunk and make a total ass of himself around… well, around the ‘big kids’. But had Mark turning down a beer reminded Johnny of how young he was? How inexperienced?

Johnny just gave him a thumbs-up, though, and headed to the door. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe Mark was overthinking every single word that fell from his lips, when Johnny was really just saying shit without thinking much about it at all.

“I mean it,” Taeyong broke the awkward silence that had descended upon the living room, lowering his thick brows. “You really are too nice for Johnny.”

“Um… okay,” Mark nodded, unsure how to respond. “Like, thanks, I guess?”

“Too nice,” Taeyong muttered, but he smiled fondly at Mark before engaging himself with his texts once more.

The man who must be Yuta wandered into the room then, not giving Mark the chance to turn Taeyong’s words over in his mind. He was… Mark swallowed. Gorgeous, like really gorgeous. Were all of Johnny’s friends like this? He wasn’t insecure about how he looked, usually, but… he definitely looked like a teenager, while Yuta and Taeyong looked like models. What was Johnny even doing fucking around with him, when he knew people who looked like that?

Yuta was even more intimidating than Taeyong, with a pierced eyebrow and choppy layers of black hair down to his collarbone.

“’Sup?” he gave Mark a bro-nod, which he fumbled to reciprocate. “Hi Taeyongie, how are you, sweetheart?”

He ruffled his friend’s hair, getting a disgruntled noise out of him as he batted the hand away.

“I’m good, Yuta,” Taeyong told him. “It’s really hot here, though.”

“Yeah, I fucking noticed,” Yuta snorted, shaking his head. “I’m fine too, thanks for asking.”

Mark couldn’t help the giggle that escaped him at that. Yuta looked up, made eye contact with Mark. He grinned, and Mark could just feel his ears going red.

“And you must be Mark,” he smiled wolfishly, tilting his head. His eyes were almost… predatory, and definitely caught on the bright red helixes of Mark’s ears. “Johnny’s mentioned you. Good to see you, man.”

“Yeah, you too,” Mark coughed, trying to break himself out of his frozen, awkward state. “You’re here for the week, right?”

“Yep,” Yuta popped his lips, and Mark admired how Yuta made flopping down on a sectional look graceful.

“Oh, cool. Are you working right now?” As soon as the question left his lips, Mark wanted to wince. God, what if that was insensitive? He didn’t mean that Yuta should be off working right now instead of vacationing, or anything, oh fuck what if they thought he was a snob --

 “Nah. Unlike Johnny,” Yuta yawned, stretching his arms expansively and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Not all of us are gainfully employed.”

“Oh. Uh, so are you…. ungainfully employed, then?” Mark queried, furrowing his brow and tilting his head at the elder. He heard a snort from behind him, and whipped his head around just in time to see Johnny doubling over with beer dripping down his face.

“You are too cute, Mark Lee,” Yuta informed him delightedly, grinning widely. His teeth looked unusually sharp. Mark swallowed, shooting a glance at Taeyong. He was still curled in the armchair, but was looking up from his phone and smiling benevolently at Mark, now. “Gosh, where did Johnny find you?”

“Haha, um,” Mark giggled nervously, scratching at the back of his head. “Uh, I don’t know? At the pool, I guess.”

“Damn, I might have to go to that pool, then,” Yuta flicked his eyes up and down Mark’s body. He suddenly became aware that with his arm lifted to his head, a strip of his abdomen was on display. He lowered that arm self-consciously, tugging down at the hem of his tank top.

Then he jumped about a foot in the air, because Johnny smacked him square on the ass.

“Markie can teach you how to swim, Yuta!” he smiled angelically down at his friend, raising his eyebrow and sipping from his can casually, as if he hadn’t just spanked Mark in front of his friends and God and everybody.

Taeyong rolled his eyes at the eldest.

“Chill, John,” he said, something like a warning edging his tone. Johnny rolled his eyes, slung his arm around Mark’s shoulder and tugged him into his body once more. 

“Chill, Taeyong,” he mocked right back.

Yuta was still grinning up at Mark, reminding him more and more of a shark with every moment.

“I would love that,” he purred, bending one knee up on the couch where he reclined. “Do you offer private lessons, Mark?”

“Um, not really?” Mark’s voice went high-pitched at the end of the question, which really should’ve been a statement. “But I’d just teach you how to swim for free, dude. It’s no big deal.” 

“You’d do that?” Yuta’s eyebrows shot up. Mark shrugged.

“Yeah?” he replied, shifting his weight. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not. But if you want, give me your number, and we can figure out when we’re both free and hit up the pool.” 

“Nice,” Yuta nodded, smiling once more. “I know how to float and shit, just not the fancy stuff. Toss me your phone, baby.”

Mark dug it out of his front pocket, trying hard not to react to ‘baby’. Yuta clearly pet-named everyone. It wasn’t his fault that Mark was developing a near-Pavlovian response to that one in particular.

“I could just send you his contact,” Johnny interjected, sounding oddly put-out for some reason. 

“You could,” Yuta hummed, giving Johnny an inscrutable look over the top of Mark’s cell. “But this is faster now, hm? Here, honey, all set.”

Mark took his phone back, quickly glancing at the new contact info before locking it. Yuta had taken the liberty of adding about fifty emojis beside his name (~yuta~ 💙🐙😈✨), and Mark had to bite back a smile. Cute.

“Come on, order the pizza already,” Taeyong’s voice cut across Mark’s thoughts, his voice pitched in a cute whine. “I’ve been putting off watching the finale for weeks Johnny, because you wanted to watch it together. I’m tired of waiting!”

“Okay, okay, jeez!” Johnny laughed, pulling out his phone and finding the number for Lucio’s, bringing it up to his ear. “Calm your tits, Yongie, we’ll be watching it soon!”

“Sit next to me, Mark!” Yuta called across the room in a stage whisper, raising his eyebrows and patting the spot behind him on the couch enthusiastically. Mark blinked, startled, but cautiously sat down on the edge of the cushion anyways. He felt stiff, like he’d suddenly forgotten how to chill on a sectional. He could see Yuta from the corner of his eye.  

Mark shifted, twisting his hands in his lap, feeling unaccountably awkward. And then Yuta’s bony feet appeared in his lap, knocking his twisting fingers away. Mark squawked in surprise, snapping his head to see his assailant. 

Yuta looked incredibly comfortable, and rather like a cat who had gotten the cream. He stretched his legs out further so his knees were draped over Mark’s lap and folded his arms behind his head. He grinned crookedly at Mark, absently blowing stray strands of hair out of his eyes. Mark felt frozen beneath the heat of his legs, and the direct eye contact.

“So, Markie, who do you want to win? And who was your favorite queen this season?”

“Oh, I’ve never, like, actually watched Drag Race before.”

“What?!”

🌊 🌊 🌊

Mark wasn't, like, a total idiot (no matter what Renjun said). He wasn't in denial. He had picked up on the obvious.

Johnny and Yuta definitely fucked. Or, like – they had definitely fucked before. Whether that was in the past, or still happening now, Mark did not know. He did not really want to know. Thinking about it too much made him vaguely nauseated, so he simply Chose to Not Think (a conscious choice!).

Which might have been why Mark was so surprised, and secretly pleased, when Johnny texted asking if he was free to come over Tuesday night. Mark had technically been going to see a movie with his friends, but it'd been Donghyuck's pick anyways, and if he could save $20 and have an orgasm by ditching to go to Johnny's – well, the choice was clear.

mark: yeah i'll be over in 30, that good?

johnny: 👍👍

When Mark walked into Johnny's house, he spotted Yuta and Taeyong lazing about in the living room. Taeyong was fiddling with something on his laptop, and Mark heard the faint noise of synths – he must be working on a beat. He'd told Mark he'd majored in music production, during work yesterday when Johnny's friends had tagged along to keep him company on his shift.

There was a certain smug feeling welling in Mark's chest as he said hello to Yuta, who was sitting upside down on the couch with his hair hanging all over the place, scrolling through something on his phone. Yuta and Johnny had absolutely had sex before. But Johnny still called Mark over here today, even though Yuta was literally staying in the house with him. That meant something, right? At the very least, it probably meant that Yuta and Johnny weren't fucking anymore. Mark tried not to let relief overtake him when he reached that conclusion. There was no reason to feel relieved, because it would not be a problem if Johnny were to fuck other people! Other people, like Yuta, who was possibly the sexiest person Mark had ever met. Mark and Johnny were friends with benefits, non-exclusive. Mark wasn't feeling possessive, or jealous, not at all. He was just enjoying the ego boost of Johnny inviting him over when he currently had serious contenders for Hottest Person Mark Had Ever Seen in his living room.

"Nice tank top, Mark," Yuta complimented him, eyeing him up with a slight smile playing around his lips. Mark wasn't sure how well he could even see Mark, upside down like that.

"Thanks!" Mark managed to squeak, escaping up the stairs. He looked down at his shirt. It was just one of his work tank tops. The same kind Yuta had seen him in on-and-off all shift, yesterday. Had the older man been teasing him?

Mark shook his head as he reached Johnny's door, resolving not to think about it. Yuta was just a very confusing person. Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob with confidence he did not feel, and slipped inside.

"Oh, good, we finally broke you of your knocking habit!" Johnny looked up from his desk at Mark and grinned. He'd clearly just gotten out of the shower, hadn't even put on clothes yet. There was only a towel wrapped around his hips. Mark swallowed dryly.

"Hey," Mark replied, wishing his voice didn't sound half as rough as it did. "Did you guys have fun today? What'd you do?"

"It was chill," Johnny replied, stretching his arms above his head. Mark tried not to stare at the dark hair of his armpits, or the corded lines of muscle on Johnny's arm. The towel slipped down another half inch. Mark held back a whimper. "We just went to the beach. Less tourists on a Tuesday, you know?"

"Yeah," Mark breathed, tearing his eyes away from Johnny's happy trail to meet his eyes. The elder looked amused.

Mark blinked himself out of his daze and stepped further into his room. He took a breath. He was allowed to look, now. He was allowed to touch, even. Johnny had already given him the invitation, by texting him to come over here. He shouldn't have to give Mark another one.

Mark walked up to Johnny and dipped down to press a kiss to his lips, cradling Johnny's head and feeling his wet hair slide against his fingers. He tried to pull back, only for Johnny to chase his mouth, open his lips against Mark and trap him for another kiss, and another, and another. Mark only wrenched himself away when his back was beginning to get truly sore from being hunched over too long.

"Lemme just–"

Mark grabbed the back of his tank top and yanked it off over his head, then slid out of the basketball shorts he'd thrown on in place of his bathing suit from earlier today. It felt kind of strange, to be the only one undressing – but then, Johnny had been sitting there damn near naked this whole time, in the first place. Mark was just matching his energy.

He folded himself into Johnny's lap, legs cramped trying to fit into the gaming chair. Mark pressed another kiss to the smile on Johnny's mouth, then to his cheek, and another beneath his ear. He inhaled deeply. He could actually smell Johnny's shampoo right now, with his hair still drying, and it was so nice. Clearly expensive, unlike the Walgreens brand Mark used.

Johnny's hands came to settle around his waist, and he hummed lowly in satisfaction. Mark bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a goofy smile. Johnny was kind of obsessed with his waist, he was noticing.

"Those bruises haven't totally healed up yet, huh?" Johnny hummed, brushing his fingers over several of the fading spots ringing Mark's clavicle. The reminder of 4th of July, how Johnny had gone absolutely feral on Mark's neck, made him shiver under Johnny's touch. 

"Um, yeah dude, you went pretty hard," Mark chuckled, squirming slightly in Johnny's lap. He tried not to think about all the looks his friends, and coworkers, and oh god all the patrons at work had given him this week. Johnny looked a bit sheepish, even as he dug his thumb into the bruise he'd left in the hollow between Mark's collarbones.

"Sorry 'bout that," he apologized, and he actually did sound a bit sorry. Johnny leaned forward and pressed apologetic kisses over each bruise, soft brushes of his lips that made Mark's stomach erupt with butterflies. "I'll be more careful. I just wasn't thinking straight."

"It's okay," Mark reassured him, threading his fingers through Johnny's hair. The strands felt silky, like there was still some conditioner that hadn’t been rinsed out. "It was... I mean. I liked it."

"Yeah?" Johnny grinned up at him, full teeth. Every inch the wolf, about to devour his prey. Mark shivered, and Johnny's hands tightened around his waist. "You liked that? You like a bit of pain, baby?"

"Johnny," Mark whimpered, and dove back down to kiss him, trying to shut him up with his mouth. Their teeth clacked together painfully before Johnny gripped his chin, held Mark in place by the jaw to the angle. Mark felt himself melt under the hold. He wasn't a person anymore; just a puddle in Johnny's lap.

"I'm not gonna bruise you up again like that," Johnny whispered, millimeters from Mark's mouth. He drew back a bit to look him in the eyes. His pupils were already blown out, and they hadn't even done anything. "But I can give you pain that won't leave marks behind. How would you like that, baby?"

Mark whined and nodded, squirming in the cramped chair. He was suddenly too claustrophobic to stay in Johnny's lap. He wiggled himself down, until he was on his knees between Johnny's leg, sinking into the plush shag carpet. Johnny's towel had gotten hopelessly twisted from Mark sitting on it, and he set about untangling it with his hands. When he finally got the ends pulled apart, revealing Johnny's body in full, Johnny had already brought one hand down to cup Mark's head.

His dick was starting to fill out, and it looked so soft and clean, framed by the white edges of the fluffy bath towel. Mark couldn't resist dipping his head forward to press a chaste kiss to the tip, grasping the length in his hand and bringing it to his mouth. He looked up at Johnny from beneath his lashes, and nearly moaned just from the sight. Johnny's other fist had been lifted to his mouth, biting down on a knuckle in anticipation of what Mark was about to do. He held Johnny's cock up so he could lick a line up the underside, then closed his lips around the head, never breaking eye contact. Johnny's breath was already quickening, eyes dark and fixed on Mark's lips.

He set about sucking Johnny down, resolved to make him forget about giving Mark pain for the time being. It sounded interesting, and kind of hot, and like something Mark might want to try. But... that hadn't been what he meant when he said ‘I liked it.’ Mark didn't know how to tell Johnny that what he liked about the collar of hickies hadn't been the pain of it.

It had been the possession.

🌊 🌊 🌊

 Roommate assignments were posted Wednesday July 11th, and Mark was lowkey shitting himself. 

He did all the exhaustive quizzes, forcing himself to really evaluate the true nature of his cleanliness and sleep habits (neither were… great, exactly). He said he didn’t smoke but didn’t mind it (Johnny’s shirts smelt like cigarette smoke, sometimes, mixed with his cologne), liked to play music while he studied, was going to be in the dorm room most weekends (couldn’t go for two-day trips home, not over two thousand miles away), and he needed time by himself to recharge. 

Mark just hoped it would be enough to get him paired with someone tolerable, at least. He wasn’t going to lie and say he hadn’t prayed a couple times that he’d become super close friends with his roommate, but he would settle for not hating them. Or having them hate him. Oh god, what if they hated him?

Mark was chewing a hole in his lip as he refreshed his email for the fourth time since he ducked into the guard hut for break, digging his fingers into his hair anxiously. Still nothing. Come the fuck on, UCLA…

“A watched pot never boils,” Jeno said, calm as could be. Easy for him to say. He and Jaemin were going to be fucking roommates, what did he have to worry about? Mark sent him a quick glare, then went back to burning a hole in his phone screen.

“YES!” Mark punched his fist in the air, leaping out of his plastic chair so quick it nearly tumbled over. He held up five for Jeno, who obliged him with a rather bemused slap. “Assignment came in, baby! And we got… Hedrick Hall, roommate is… Yukhei Wong! Fuck yeah, I got a double! Only one roomie to worry about!”

“Congrats,” Jeno told him sincerely, slapping his shoulder companionably. Mark felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. This was real. He was going to college. He was going to college in fucking California, and he was gonna live in a dorm with his roommate, Yukhei Wong, and he was going to college. Holy fuck.

“Yoo, this hall has music practice rooms… actually, I guess most of them do, but how sick, right? And they gave me Yukhei’s email,” Mark paused for a moment, hand over the linked address. “Should I like… send him an email? Would that be weird? Should I wait a couple hours? Fuck, what do I say?”

“Introduce yourself?” Jeno shrugged. Mark sighed. Incredibly unhelpful.

He wandered out of the safety of the guard hut, tousling the hair of two of his eight-year old swim charges as they ran up to him to show off their friendship bracelets (“Yo, those look so cool! So when am I gonna get mine, hm? Hmmm?”) and ambling up to Yeri, sitting bored with her face in her palm in chair one. She perked up at Mark’s approach, back straightening.

“You got it?” she asked eagerly, leaning forward over her guard tube to peer down at Mark. His wide grin gave the answer even before he nodded, climbing up on the bottom rung of the chair so she could hear him better. Yeri turned her face fully back to the water, did a solid scan, then slapped her hand on the arm of the chair to indicate she was ready to hear the news. Mark bounced on his toes, balanced precariously on the rung. “Tell me!” 

“Okay, okay,” Mark began, feeling nearly giddy. “I got my roommate! Yeri, I’m not stuck in a fucking triple!”

“Fuck yeah, dude,” Yeri cheered quietly, raising her hand for a blind high-five. Mark completed it perfectly.

“And I’m in Hedrick Hall, on the third floor. Which isn’t like, too bad? There’s only four more above me, and I can do three flights of stairs pretty easy.” Mark tapped his fingers on the arm of her chair, needing some way to release his energy. “And my roommate's name is Yukhei Wong.”

“Cool,” she nodded, patting over Mark’s tapping fingers fondly. “Is that a Chinese name?”

“I think? I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him. Should I email him? What do I say?” Mark asked nervously. Yeri giggled.

“Mark, dude, chill out. Just say ‘Hey I’m your roommate Mark Lee, here’s my number!' and tell him you wanna like, sort out details on who’s bringing what. I don’t know,” Yeri was clearly rolling her eyes fondly, even if Mark couldn’t see behind her sunglasses. “Have you stalked him on Facebook? Maybe do that first.” 

“You’re so right,” Mark agreed. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought to do that. He glanced around the pool deck. It was still too early for anyone to really be here, mainly just stragglers from morning practice that got left here until their parents got off work at 5. No parents, just babysitters. Safe to take out his phone and begin the stalking process while hanging off the guard chair.

“I can’t find him,” Mark grumbled, a few frustrating minutes later. “There’s no Yukhei Wong on here that’s the right age to be a freshman.”

“Does he not have Facebook? Oh my god, maybe your roommate is a total freak who hates social media and thinks it’s mind-controlling us or some shit,” Yeri readjusted her legs on the chair, sounding worried. “Mark, if your roommate is a total weirdo, I will fly out and take care of it for you.” 

“Thanks?” Had that been… a threat? Mark shook his head, hopping down from the rung and rolling out his feet, now aching a bit from the wood digging into his arches for so long. “Alright, lemme put this away, then I’ll come get you off.”

“Promise?” Yeri asked, moving her sunglasses down her nose to leer. She only held it for as long as it took Mark to blush, then burst into a fit of giggles. 

“I didn’t mean— ! You know what? I’m not even gonna try,” he took a deep breath to halt his protests, then backed away. Retreated. Whatever.

“Don’t worry!” Yeri called after as he scurried back to the guard shack. “I’ve got that all under control!”

🌊 🌊 🌊

“I literally cannot believe he just sunbathes all day,” Yuta complained loudly, making sure his voice carried enough that Johnny could hear him. Mark snorted. 

Yuta and Taeyong had been granted guard shack privileges while they spent the day with Johnny at work, obviously, and Yuta took advantage of them with great delight. He spent most of his time enjoying the time out of the sun, only dipping in the water occasionally to cool off. Taeyong, in contrast, was laying out on the lounge chair beside the one Johnny usually commandeered. He saved it for him with a lazy foot thrown across it on the rare occasion Johnny had to jump up and actually, like, go do some work.

“No, seriously Mark,” Yuta turned to him, looking him dead in the eye with the kind of solemnity Mark would expect from someone imparting terrible news. He tried not to shift nervously in his chair under the intense gaze. Yuta was just an intense person, he was quickly learning. 

“You don’t understand. Johnny complains constantly. He whines in his texts all the time. Ugh, work was so long today. You guys, getting up early for work is killing me. Fuck, it’s so hot at work, I’m going to die. He’s so dramatic! And for what? He talks all this game about how hard his job is, then I come here, and what do I find? Johnny lays on a chair all day while you do all the work!”

Mark clapped at the end of Yuta’s miniature tirade, positively delighted. He was going to get a stitch in his side from laughing so hard.

“Yeah, you’ve pretty much got Johnny’s number,” he agreed, slapping Yuta five. Yuta looked very pleased with himself.

“I’ll have you know,” Johnny’s voice from behind him startled Mark, making him jump in his chair. He whipped his head around. When had Johnny gotten up from his sunbathing? He looked down his nose at Mark imperiously. “That I have every right to complain about work, Yuta. The fact that I have to show up here at all is tragic, honestly. Who cares what I do when I’m here? I’m still here. Suffering.”

Yeah, well, Mark kind of had to agree with that too.

“I can’t deal with him,” Yuta whispered sotto voice to Mark, blocking his mouth from Johnny with his hand. Johnny tugged at his hair. Yuta slapped his hand away without looking, hard enough to make Johnny wince and cradle his wrist.

“Mark, never mind him. He’s so boring, we don’t need him. Didn’t you promise you were gonna teach me how to swim?”

“Well, it wasn’t a promise,” Mark hedged, glancing at the clock. He still had nearly forty minutes left in his lunch break. He could definitely afford to hop in with Yuta. “I can’t promise you’ll learn how to swim in half an hour, dude. Like, I can basically guarantee that you won’t. But I can show you some things…?”

“Sounds great,” Yuta said firmly, standing up from the table and striding out the door. He turned around and looked at Mark, raising an eyebrow. “Well? Are you coming? I need every minute I can get!”

“Okay, okay!” Mark laughed, hopping up from his seat to trail after Yuta. “Let’s grab a noodle on our way… they can be super helpful, you see…”

Being so close to Yuta, touching Yuta, while he was soaking wet and had his navel stud on full display was fucking dangerous, but Mark managed to survive. Barely. Yuta’s tendency to grin like a child and splash Mark relentlessly definitely helped. Yuta was a great student, not at all embarrassed when Mark gave him pointers or physically fixed a limb he was moving wrong. It was the most fun Mark had on his lunch break so far all summer.

Mark was going to miss Yuta and Taeyong when they left in a few days. It was a shame they couldn’t stay longer.

🌊 🌊 🌊

“Movie night!” Yuta cheered, raising his hands in victory as he flopped back on the couch. Mark couldn’t help but grin at the way his fringe got all stuck in his eyes, as the older boy tried in vain to blow it out of the way.

“Here, lemme just–” Mark leaned over impulsively, smoothing Yuta’s hair back. He got a coquettish flutter of the eyelashes in return, as Yuta cooed over how sweet Mark was. He drew his hand back quickly, like he’d been burned, and flushed, tucking himself into a corner of the couch.

Mark wasn't exactly sure how he'd secured the invite to this movie night, but he wasn't gonna complain. And Yuta had been the one to text him asking if he wanted to join – a string of ridiculous emojis popping up next to his name and all – and if so to please bring snacks. Mark had kind of been thinking about going over to Donghyuck’s house to bother him, but he’d done that basically every Friday through most of high school. This was the last time he would see Yuta and Taeyong, probably ever, and the thought was making Mark a little sad. He’d gotten attached to them this past week. He hadn’t been expecting to spend so much time with them, but they were so easy to be around.

So, Mark had driven over with the snacks, which were promptly ripped open and spread across the coffee table. He'd be worried it was too much food for four people if he hadn't seen how his own friend group ate time and time again.

“You’re sleeping over, right?” Johnny asked Mark, but it seemed more rhetorical than anything.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Mark nodded, fumbling with his phone. Shit, he needed to text his parents not to expect him home the next time he ran to the bathroom.

Edging slightly closer to Johnny, Mark asked in an undertone, “So, like, where should I sleep?”

“My room,” Johnny said, giving him a funny little sideways glance. “You know my bed is big enough for both of us.”

Mark blushed furiously. Yeah, he did know. And he was now going to desperately try to avoid thinking about why he knew, lest he get a fucking semi in front of Johnny’s cool college friends.

Taeyong's voice cut through Mark's horny daze.

"What are we watching? And who's picking? I don't remember who went last," he said, wrapping a blanket around his legs. It was like a little half burrito. Mark resisted the urge to coo at how cute the older man looked.

“It’s Friday the thirteenth! You know what that means!”

Mark did not, but considering the way Taeyong blanched and Yuta cheered, he wasn’t sure if he did.

“Horror movie night, fuck yeah!” Yuta whistled, slapping Johnny five. Johnny grinned up at him as he hunched over his laptop, keying the title of his selection into Netflix.

“O-oh. It’s horror?" Mark couldn’t help the way he squeaked out the question. Johnny and Yuta just laughed and nodded, pressing play on the laptop mirroring onto the TV. Taeyong shot Mark a sympathetic glance, leaning over from the armchair to speak to Mark.

“I hate horror movies,” he confided, grimacing. Mark watched him with wide eyes. “I lived with them for three years, and half our movie nights would be horror films. I ended up hiding out under the blankets most of the time.”

“Yeah,” Mark sighed in relief, giving Taeyong a small, grateful smile. “I’ll probably be camping out under one tonight.”

He made it through the first forty-five minutes admirably, though. At least in his opinion. Sure, he had scootched closer to Johnny every few minutes until they were pressed together shoulder to thigh, and hid his face in Johnny’s henley for about half that runtime, but still! 

When the serial killer on the screen started doing something absolutely garish with sutures, Mark’s terrified gaze met Taeyong across the gulf between their seats.

“Mark! Come to the kitchen with me,” Taeyong’s tone was torn between an instruction and a beg. Mark nodded eagerly, practically shooting off the couch and scrambling for the safety of the Suh’s warm, well-lit kitchen with Taeyong.

“Jesus,” Mark muttered, filling up a water glass and chugging it quickly. Droplets dripped down and formed a wet patch down the middle of his shirt, making him grimace. Fuck, hopefully Taeyong didn’t think he was too stupid to drink water.

But the elder’s hands were shaking slightly as he went through the liquor cabinet, pulling down a shaker and two glasses. 

“Do you want a margarita?” he asked Mark, a little high-pitched. “Because I want a margarita.”

“Hell yeah dude.”

Mark watched with fascination as Taeyong poured ingredients into the shaker easily, seemingly automatically.

“You’re fast,” he observed. Taeyong seemed startled out of something of a trance, and blinked hard before giving Mark a soft smile.

“I’ve been working as a bartender since I was twenty,” he confided. “Still don’t really know what I want to do with my life, so. Bartending works well for now.”

“Bet you make unreal tips,” Mark said, then looked at Taeyong with mortification when he realized what had just slipped out of his mouth. “Sorry, oh my god, dude, sorry. I just meant–”

“It’s fine, Mark,” Taeyong giggled, pouring out the margarita into two glasses he had managed to rim with salt. “You didn’t say anything bad, calm down. And, well. I do make excellent tips.”

Mark relaxed with the wink Taeyong gave him, one that made his intimidatingly beautiful face soften into something goofy.

“What’s this!” Yuta asked loudly, throwing his arms apart as he strode into the kitchen. “Hiding out from us, I see? Ooh, is that a margarita? Yongie, make me one!”

“Wait, Taeyong’s making drinks?” Johnny asked, following Yuta in. He ruffled Mark’s hair absentmindedly, leaning a hip against the counter. “Bro, and you didn’t even offer to make them for the group? Rude.”

Taeyong sniffed. “Mark and I needed alcohol to suffer through the movie you picked, John, so don’t even talk to me about rude.”

Mark noticed he was already mixing up two more drinks, regardless, and all the feigned irritation couldn’t quite hide the smile on his face. Mark sipped from his glass, licking at the salt gratefully as he tried to brace himself against the force of the tequila. He didn’t want to visibly wince, and look like... Well, like a nineteen-year-old who had never had a real margarita before. Mark quickly took a second sip.

He hoped he would find friends like Yuta and Taeyong when he got to UCLA. Less than two months, now.

…

When Yuta trailed after Johnny and Mark up the staircase, Mark didn’t think much of it. He probably just wanted to use one of the two bathrooms upstairs, and leave Taeyong to the one just off the kitchen. 

That assumption didn’t hold up when Yuta followed Johnny and Mark into Johnny’s bedroom, and shut the door behind them. Mark turned back in confusion, which only worsened when Yuta clasped his shoulder.

“You’re not gonna sleep downstairs with us?” Yuta asked Mark, widening his eyes in a deadly pout. “We could all crash in the living room, have a proper sleepover!”

“Come on, Yuta,” Johnny rolled his eyes, pushing his hair back from his face. Mark tried not to get distracted, but he couldn’t help wetting his lips. “You know Taeyong would never sleep on the floor. It would fucking kill his back. He’s gonna be sleeping on the guest room mattress, just like I will be sleeping on my mattress. And so will Mark.”

Yuta pouted more, sticking his lower lip out and sighing loudly.

"Fine," he said dramatically, pushing his hair back from his face only to shake it out again. Mark caught a glimpse of the industrial piercing through his cartilage. He had the intrusive thought that it might be cool to bite it, it’d probably feel nice on his tongue. Mark shook his head, like he could shake the thought right out of his brain. "So I'm gonna be stuck on an air mattress on the cold, hard, floor of the guest room, while you and Mark are up here cuddled up on your bed?"

Mark opened his mouth to protest that he and Johnny would not be ‘ cuddled up’, but then thought better of it and snapped it shut.

"Yep," Johnny yawned, rolling out his neck. Yuta huffed.

“You shouldn’t keep him all to yourself,” Yuta wrapped up Mark in a back hug. He couldn’t see his face, but he was pretty sure the elder man was pouting. “It’s not fair.”  

“Um, haha, what?” Mark felt himself beginning to panic-grin.

“Johnny’s hogging you,” Yuta informed him, breath ruffling the hair around his ears. “You’re just cute as a button, and Johnny’s monopolizing you. It’s so selfish!”

“There’s enough of me to go around,” Mark assured the elder, then immediately closed his eyes with embarrassment. Jesus, that sounded way too suggestive. “I mean, like, I’m sure you can share!”

That was even worse. 

Yuta squeezed him even more tightly back into his body.

“We can share? ” he crooned, voice dripping sex. Johnny was watching them, not saying anything. His face was as impassive as it had ever been. He just lingered by his dresser, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed. “You’re so generous, Markie!”

“Oh, he is,” Johnny finally spoke. “Such a giver.”

“Thanks?” Mark squeaked. Fingers tightened on his hips.

“I wanna fucking wreck you,” Yuta moaned, and suddenly there were lips at his neck, kissing wetly. His pulse point was easy to find, with the way his heart was thundering, and Yuta licked over it, sucking a bruise there without any further preamble.

This was not what Mark meant when he said they could share. He didn’t know what he meant when he said that, actually, as with half the word-salad that tumbled out of his mouth around Johnny —  but it definitely was not this. But Mark certainly wasn’t opposed to it, especially not with how good Yuta’s mouth felt on his neck.

Almost on instinct, Mark tilted his head back, resting it on the shoulder waiting behind him. Baring his neck to Yuta, he made eye contact with Johnny, again.

“You gonna let us share you, Mark Lee?” he asked lowly, raising one eyebrow. Mark swallowed, the noise so loud to his own ears. Yuta kissed back up to his ear, pressing a chaste kiss just beneath the lobe. His lips remained there, waiting. They were both waiting. For him.

“Yeah,” he breathed, nodding unconsciously. “Share me, please.”

“Good manners,” Johnny praised him, and Mark preened under his watch.

He, Mark Lee, was going to be shared. He was going to have a fucking threesome, with two of the hottest people he had ever met in his life, oh god. Holy shit.

This wasn't exactly what Mark had in mind when he set out to explore his sexuality this summer, but damn if he was going to turn it down. A threesome? Just being dropped in his lap? Requiring no effort on Mark's part? People dreamed of getting to do shit like this, and it just happened to Mark. So much seemed to just be happening to Mark this summer. He decided to embrace this, the way he had embraced everything else.

He dropped his head back onto the shoulder behind him and looked up at Yuta best he could, lips slightly parted. The other man didn't waste another moment before leaning forward and locking their lips together, licking into his mouth before Mark could even respond. Mark was craning his neck funny at this angle, but he didn't even think about moving. He was too caught up in Yuta's mouth, the way  he licked the back of Mark's teeth and sucked on his tongue.

This was only the third man that Mark had ever kissed. The second one he had kissed sober. And Johnny was watching them. It was a mindfuck every time Mark fluttered his lids open and saw Johnny watching them intently, eyes dark and thumb rubbing over his lower lip.

The third man he’d ever kissed, and Mark was about to sleep with him. Right now. He felt a strange pit in the bottom of his stomach, something like nerves. Mark ignored it, turned his body further into Yuta so he could be kissed at a better angle, slung his arms around Yuta’s neck and wound his fingers through that long hair he’d been so fascinated with the past few days. It was an odd feeling, to be kissing someone the same height as him. All the girls Mark had kissed had been inches shorter than him. But Johnny was tall, had at least four inches on Mark, and usually he had to tilt his head up or go on tiptoe. Jungwoo had been too, even if Mark didn’t remember it all that clearly. Unlike anyone else he’d ever kissed, Yuta was perfectly even with him.

They fit well together, technically, Mark thought, tightening his fingers in Yuta’s hair when the other man bit his upper lip. But even though they technically fit better together, it didn’t feel as right as him and Johnny. Maybe he just liked tall dudes. Maybe that was, like, his type. Or maybe he just liked Johnny, but he couldn’t think about that properly with Yuta’s tongue in his mouth.

The palm at the small of his back was a surprise, and Mark nearly bit Yuta’s tongue in his flinch of surprise. He recognized the hand immediately. Johnny was the only one in the room with hands that large, that practically spanned the entirety of Mark’s lower back.  

Johnny pushed up the hem of Mark’s shirt impatiently, forcing him to break the kiss with Yuta to pull it all the way off. Mark blushed under the heat of Yuta’s stare.

“You guys too,” he ordered, trying not to look half as flustered as he felt. Yuta smiled wide enough to show his teeth.

“Sure, Markie. Whatever you want.”

Johnny pulled on Mark’s hips, tugging him back towards the bed. Mark stumbled along, nearly falling on top of him as Johnny sat them both down. Johnny’s shirt still wasn’t off. Mark huffed, and yanked it over his head himself. Johnny grinned at him goofily, hair a staticky mess from the fabric. Mark smiled back and smoothed the flyaways down.

Another dip in the mattress caught Mark’s attention, and he whipped his head around to find Yuta crawling up the bed towards them. He’d nearly forgotten the other boy was there. He gulped as Yuta caged him in, trapping him under his body like a predator. Mark was sprawled half on Johnny’s lap, Johnny’s strong forearms wrapped around his waist.

Yuta tugged at Mark’s legs until they were presumably where he wanted them, then straddled across Mark’s thighs. His thin black sweatpants weren’t doing anything to hide his dickprint, and Mark wet his lower lip. He nearly missed Yuta seductively pulling his shirt up his torso, removing it like he was doing a striptease.  

“Oh my god,” Mark muttered, mouth hanging agape. His hands drifted up to Yuta’s chest almost outside of his control, running lightly over the silver barbells pierced through his peaked brown nipples. “Oh my god, you’re pierced here, too?” 

“Sure am,” Yuta purred, smirking at Mark and covering his hands with his own. His fingers were bony, long. “Here, touch them properly.”

“He likes having them pulled,” Johnny informed Mark, rubbing at his hips absently. His chin was hooked over Mark’s shoulder, eyes presumably fixed on the two sets of hands covering Yuta’s pecs. 

Mark was fascinated by the tiny balls of metal peeking out on either side of Yuta’s nipples, marveling at how they felt under his thumbs. They were warm from Yuta’s skin, and nearly slippery. When Mark carefully twisted at the metal, Yuta hissed loudly, palming over his erection. Mark leaned up and pressed a kiss to the side of Yuta’s neck, gently took the lobe of his ear between his teeth. He playfully flicked his tongue against the stud there, then licked wetly up the helix. Mark pressed his lips to the industrial like he’d been fantasizing about earlier. It was so much larger than any earrings Mark had ever put his mouth near before, larger than the barbells he was rolling between his fingers right now. When Mark licked over the bar, the metal tanged against his tongue.

Yuta had shoved the band of his sweats under his balls and was stroking his cock leisurely while Mark explored all his earrings. It was like he was being patient, like he knew Mark had never been with someone who had so many piercings before. Mark pressed a kiss over the ring through Yuta’s left eyebrow just to be thorough, making Yuta’s lips quirk in a smile. 

“You missed this one,” Yuta told him, running a hand up his own stomach. Mark swallowed, looking at the stud through his navel with his lips slightly parted. “Here–”

He rested his hands on the headboard and leaned forward, making it easier for Mark to kiss the jewelry. He wrapped his lips around the stud and sucked shyly, wondering if Yuta liked that. If he liked having this played with when he was getting sucked off.

“I’m not dealing with these anymore,” Yuta announced, sitting back on Mark’s thigh. He gracefully pushed himself off the bed, shoving his sweats down the rest of the way. He pointed each toe in turn, like his pants had been greatly constricting his legs and he needed to stretch them out. “That’s better.”

Mark agreed. Yuta’s legs were skinny, like his, but so much paler. The cut of his hip bones was nearly severe. Mark wanted to press his thumbs into the divots, see if they would fit.

Mark quickly got a lapful of Yuta as the man clambered back onto the bed, pulling at Mark’s hair to guide him up into a kiss. Yuta’s hands wandered all over his torso, confident, like he knew exactly where Mark wanted to be touched. When Yuta tripped his fingers lightly down his chest, glancing over his nipples, Mark gasped audibly. He tipped his head back to breathe easier.

“He’s sensitive there, too,” Johnny told Yuta, smirking. He reached around Mark’s chest to pinch at the peaks, budded up from just barely being grazed, tugging at them harshly. Mark bit back a whimper.

“I see,” Yuta nodded, and scraped his thumbnails over the tips. Mark yelped, head falling back onto Johnny’s shoulder. “You like that, baby?” 

“Yeah,” Mark nodded eagerly, ignoring how Johnny giggled behind him. Yuta smiled at him angelically, obliged him. He ran his thumbs firmly over Mark’s nipples, swollen and flushed darker from the attention, and dug his fingernails into the tips. Mark squirmed on Johnny’s lap and felt the unmistakable hard, hot bulge of his erection through his jeans. Wow.

“Hyung,” Mark murmured, tilting his head to flutter his lashes up at Johnny. He found Johnny’s hands with his own, placed firmly over his abdomen, and tangled their fingers together. “You’re so fucking hard.”

“Can’t help it,” Johnny returned, grinning and planting a kiss on the hinge of Mark’s jaw. “You two’re so hot together, swear to god.” 

Yuta’s thumb and forefinger twisting Mark’s nipples snapped Mark’s gaze back to his face, smiling devilishly.

“Maybe you should get yours pierced too, honey,” he said, giving the buds a playful flick. Mark’s hips jolted up, bumping against Yuta’s stomach. “Yeah, you should. You’re so sensitive already. Imagine how much fun you’d be to play with if there was some jewelry.” 

“You think so?” Mark asked, trying not to squirm under the pleasing flush of the compliment. Yuta hummed an affirmative, rubbing his thumbs in firm circles. He leaned down and kissed over a swollen peak, tongue laving wet and hot over Mark’s skin. He lapped at his chest a few moments more, like a cat. 

“Yup,” Yuta confirmed, pulling his mouth away from Mark’s nipple to speak. The saliva cooled immediately when exposed to the air conditioning, making Mark pebble up even tighter. “It would look so pretty on you. Maybe hoops?”

Johnny’s hand reached up, traced a light circle around his damp areolas, enjoying how Mark’s chest heaved beneath his fingertip.

“Those would look nice,” he agreed, just barely dragging his nail at the edge. It nearly tickled, and Mark squirmed in his lap again, got the bulge of his cock pressed into the fleshiest part of his ass. “If you get ‘em done, Markie, you gotta send us a picture, alright? I wanna see how sexy they look.”

“Alright, hyung,” Mark nodded compliantly, reaching up to run his thumbs over Yuta’s barbells again. The metal had warmed to his skin, but still felt so different than the incredible softness of the nipples they pierced through. Maybe… maybe that would be nice, in his own skin.

Mark’s hips had unconsciously begun rutting up, grinding against Yuta’s ass. He was sure his sweatpants had an embarrassingly large wet spot from where he’d been leaking. Mark nearly yelped when Yuta suddenly reached behind him to grab Mark’s cock, rubbing at him firmly through the fabric.

“Do you want me to take these off?” he asked Mark, eyes serious. Mark nodded. Yuta arched his eyebrow.

“Yes, please. Please take my pants off, Yuta,” Mark whined a bit, squirming slightly beneath him, knowing Yuta would like that. Yuta granted him a wide smile, one that made his intimidating facial features look so endearing and kind, and shimmied Mark’s pants down his legs. He threw them over the side of the bed with the kind of flourish Mark and Johnny never really possessed. 

“So how do you wanna do this?” Yuta asked, looking between Johnny and Mark as he posed the question. It was a great question, actually. Mark had no idea how to handle the logistics of a threesome. Something in his face must have shown that inexperience, because Yuta’s expression softened slightly, even as he leaned closer to Mark and let his breath wash over his ear. “I could fuck your mouth while Johnny takes your ass, stuff you full from both ends. Or we could pass you between us until your little hole—”

He punctuated his words by rubbing the tip of his fingers against Mark’s rim, making him clench up and gasp, head thunking back against the headboard.

“— is gaping and red, all swollen from being used.” 

Mark was bright red from his hair to his navel, he just knew it, and still he couldn’t look away from Yuta’s full lips as absolute sin kept spilling from between them. He squirmed frantically in Johnny’s lap, torn between desire and embarrassment. Yuta watched him keenly, like a predator.

“Or do you wanna fuck me?” Yuta asked quietly. Mark stared at him, mouth hanging ajar. He sucked in a breath harshly through his nose. He had never – Johnny had never let him – well, never asked him to –

“I – I can’t–” Mark didn’t know how to tell Yuta that he had never topped another guy before, that he wouldn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know how to explain that he was drowning in arousal at every option Yuta had presented him, absolutely spoiled for choice, and he didn’t know how to choose. “I can’t pick. You decide. However you want me.”

“Fuck, Mark,” Yuta bit out, leaning forward with a bracing hand on Mark’s inner thigh, licking sloppily over his lips in an estimation of a kiss. “You’re a fucking dream.”

“He is,” Johnny’s chest rumbled behind Mark, nearly startling him. He hadn’t forgotten Johnny was there, not with his thick erection pressing hot on the small of his back, but he’d been so consumed with Yuta. Johnny’s large hand cupped Mark’s chin, tilting his face up and claiming a kiss from his mouth, nearly as sloppy as the one Yuta had given him. Mark was panting by the time Johnny pulled away, their lips connected for a moment with a line of saliva that should have seemed a lot more disgusting than Mark was finding it.

“He’s an absolute dream to fuck, Yuta, you have no idea. He’s so fucking tight,” Johnny emphasized his words with a tight squeeze to Mark’s chin, forcing him to keep his gaze on the eldest. “You’re gonna wanna bust the second you get in his hole.” 

Yuta was staring up at Mark with that same predatory gaze, even as he leaned down to brush a kiss at the crease of Mark’s thigh. His long, black hair tickled against his sensitive flesh, raising goosebumps. 

“How does that sound, Mark?” Yuta asked, voice silky. He pressed another kiss to Mark’s pubic bone, barely avoiding his cock. “You want me to fuck you first, loosen you up for Johnny’s fat cock?”

“Yeah,” Mark breathed, unsure if this was some horny dream he’d fallen into or if he was still awake. The haze of arousal made it hard to be sure. “Yeah, Yuta, fuck me open for Johnny. Share me.” 

“God,” Johnny groaned, licking into Mark’s mouth again. He was so distracted by Johnny’s filthy kisses that he nearly didn’t notice Yuta pushing his thighs wider, rubbing a lube-slicked finger against the pucker of his entrance until Mark relaxed enough for it to slide in.

Yuta mouthed over Mark’s cock as he worked him open, taking him down his throat and pressing at Mark’s prostate until his thighs shook uncontrollably. Yuta gave much wetter head than anything else Mark had ever gotten. It was so noisy, the sucking so audible even over the sound of Mark and Johnny kissing.

Mark was close to the edge by the time he could comfortably take three of Yuta’s fingers, and he gratefully took the break of Yuta getting up to find condoms to breathe. Johnny petted over his hair, down the sides of his neck, helping him calm down a bit.

Mark stared at Yuta’s cock as he rolled the condom on. It wasn’t as thick as Johnny’s, or even Mark’s, which was kind of a relief. He could take it. He didn’t want to make Yuta wait for ages for Mark to adjust, scared of making things weird.

“You ready, Mark?” Yuta asked him, rubbing the blunt head of his cock over Mark’s entrance. Mark bent his knees and opened his hips wider for Yuta.

“I’m ready,” he breathed. Yuta kept teasing his cock over his hole, not quite pushing in. Mark squirmed, trying to catch Yuta and work himself down. It made Yuta grin, all teeth, but he didn’t give in. He rubbed two fingers over the base of Mark’s cock, just where it met the sensitive skin of his balls. It was like Johnny had told Yuta how he always made Mark beg, and just the thought of that, of Johnny telling Yuta how to best fuck Mark, made Mark snap.

“Please fuck me, Yuta,” he begged, voice a reedy whine. “Please.”

“Yeah,” Yuta grunted, finally looking affected. There was something honest about his face as he pushed into Mark, more honest than anything Mark had seen from him yet. He traced his thumb over Yuta’s eyebrow, gasping slightly as Yuta bottomed out.

Yuta grabbed him behind his knees, pushing Mark’s legs back further as he began to thrust into him. Slow, shallow rocks of his hips, like Yuta was trying to work Mark back up to the edge gradually. Like he had all the time in the world. There was something so languid about it, so devastatingly attractive.

Mark’s head was resting on Johnny’s firm thigh – a thigh that was still encased in denim. Mark made a soft grumble of displeasure. He rubbed his cheek against Johnny’s erection, straining painfully against the metal zip, hot even through the fabric.

“Johnny,” he whined plaintively, mouthing over the bulge. “Why are you still wearing pants? Take – ah – take them off.”

“Alright, baby,” Johnny stroked a hand over his hair then moved out from under him. Mark whined again. That hadn’t been what he wanted! But it was nice to watch Johnny slide off the bed and push his jeans to the ground…

“Why are you paying attention to Johnny? My cock is inside you, not his,” Yuta chastised playfully, pushing Mark’s legs back so they suddenly were around his head. Mark squeaked as the new angle made Yuta’s cock slide even deeper, hitting him better. “If you’re thinking about Johnny’s pants when I fuck you, then I’m not pounding you hard enough.”

Yuta followed through on his words. He was right. Like this, he was hitting Mark’s prostate nearly every thrust, and his hips were snapping so much harder now. Small grunting noises were falling from Mark’s lips, until Yuta took advantage of his new position to dip down and kiss him. He swallowed up Mark’s sounds, and Mark gladly did the same for him, greedily drinking down every moan Yuta granted him.

“Fuck,” Mark tried to moan into Yuta’s mouth, but it didn’t sound like a real word. Yuta was close enough to him now that his belly button stud was rubbing against Mark’s abs, sliding slickly over his skin and snagging at the edge of Mark’s own navel. It felt oddly intimate, to be pressed so close together like this. More intimate than Mark had been expecting.

“You close, baby?” Johnny’s voice was coming from right next to his head, but Mark couldn’t see him. Yuta’s hair was falling over his face, blocking his view. It didn’t matter. Johnny sat back in the same place as before, lifting Mark’s head and gently resting it on his thigh.

Even over the noise of his and Yuta’s wet kisses, of the squelch and slapping skin from Yuta driving into him, Mark could hear Johnny jerking his cock right beside Mark’s ear.

“Mark,” Yuta asked, breathless. They were nose to nose, and Yuta’s eyes seemed completely black. A shiver ran down Mark’s spine as the navel stud rubbed at the head of his leaking cock. “Mark, are you close? I’m about to cum, baby.”

“Yeah,” Mark whimpered, snaking his hand in between them. “Yeah, yeah, keep – just like that, yes–”

It only took a minute of stroking himself before Mark was spilling his release between them, getting their torsos completely sticky with it. Yuta didn’t seem to mind, dropped his hold on Mark’s legs to grip him around the waist and smear his thumbs through the mess. He was just pounding into Mark now, no finesse, only chasing his release.

He growled as his hips stuttered, and Mark felt his dick twitch. Yuta kept thrusting as he came into the condom, using Mark’s body to milk out his orgasm. Mark groaned as he pulled out, eyes falling shut as Yuta’s weight disappeared from the mattress.

“Do you think you can go again?” Johnny asked Mark softly, leaning down to speak into his ear. “It’s fine if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Mark gasped, hand scrabbling up Johnny’s leg to twist over the head of his cock. He rolled slightly onto his side, licked messily at the precum dripping from Johnny’s slit. “No, fuck me. Johnny, fuck me, please. I need it.”

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny muttered, but he reached out and grabbed another condom packet, ripping it open. “You’re gonna kill me, Mark Lee.”

Johnny shuffled down the bed, large hand grasping Mark’s hip and tugging at him.

“Come on, on your knees,” Johnny ordered. Mark could hear the sound of him slicking his cock with lube. A visible shiver ran down his spine as he shuffled onto his knees, burying his head in the pillows with his chest flat against the mattress. Johnny would do most of the work holding him up, like this.

“That’s it, baby. Show Yuta how good you look face down and ass up.”

Johnny slapped his cock over Mark’s hole, rubbing the tip over it messily. He pushed against Mark’s perineum, making him jolt with a sudden rush of arousal. Mark wasn’t quite back to hard yet, and he was a bit nervous about taking Johnny’s cock as sensitive as he was right now – but this could feel good. This could feel great .

“You can,” Mark buried his face in his forearms, suddenly a bit embarrassed. It was starting to hit him, what was actually happening. Yuta and Johnny were staring at his already fucked-out hole, and Mark was about to beg for more. “You can put it in.”

“Thanks,” Johnny said weakly, like he was as affected by all of this as Mark. He pushed in without further teasing, didn’t make Mark beg the way he usually liked to.

From the jump, Mark could already tell Johnny wasn’t going to last long. He thrust hard into Mark, pulling up his hips until Mark gasped. Once Johnny found the right angle, he was relentless. Mark had never been fucked like this, wasn’t sure he would ever be fucked quite like this ever again. There was just the edge of pain to it still, the oversensitivity shooting tingles down his spine. 

By the time Mark had gotten fully hard again, Johnny was clearly close. He’d curled his body over Mark’s, panting heavily into the nape of Mark’s neck with breath so hot it felt damp, and his fingers were bruising at Mark’s hips. Mark’s ass was going to be sore tomorrow – not just his hole, but his asscheeks and the backs of his thighs, where Johnny was slamming against him so hard the skin must have been mottled red.

“Mark,” Johnny whispered, right in Mark’s ear. He sounded wrecked. Mark clenched around his cock, trying to make it tighter for Johnny. Johnny’s thrusts lost any semblance of rhythm. “Oh fuck. Baby...”

He buried his head in the crook of Mark’s neck, mouthing over his skin while he filled the condom. Mark tried not to be disappointed that Johnny didn’t bite this time.

Johnny stayed buried in him to the hilt until Mark felt his cock going soft inside him – which, weird – and then carefully placed a steadying hand on Mark’s lower back. He slowly drew his hips back, slipping easily out of Mark’s well-stretched hole. Mark hissed, shoulders tensing. He felt so… so… open. And sore. And swollen. He collapsed on his stomach, crushing his dick to the sheets.

Hands pushed at his hips, and Mark groaned. He turned with them reluctantly, but was thankfully left on his side. Mark barely fluttered his eyes open when a fist wrapped around his cock and began stroking him loosely.

“Mark – do you wanna cum in my mouth?” Yuta asked him, face so close he was swimming in Mark’s field of vision. “Do you think you can cum again?”

“Yeah,” Mark breathed, dick twitching in Yuta’s fingers. “Yeah, yeah, I can. Would you…”

Yuta was already shimmying down the bed to wrap his lips around the head of Mark’s cock, suckling noisily while he stroked the rest of the shaft. Mark moaned, voice hoarse enough that it was a scratchy, quiet sound. Yuta pulled off the tip and licked his balls, pulling them each into his mouth and worrying at the sensitive skin there until Mark’s hips were twitching beneath his hands. Then he swallowed Mark back down, dripping so much drool down his cock that Mark could feel it pooling on his groin.

“Yuta,” was all Mark managed to bite out in warning, before thrusting his hips up as he came. Yuta didn’t hold them down, let Mark fuck his mouth as he rode out his orgasm. It was shorter this time, weaker, and Mark felt like he’d been wrung out like a rag.

“Jesus Christ,” Mark said, blinking straight ahead of him. Johnny made a noise of amusement.

“Sounds about right,” he agreed, and then his arms were wrapping around Mark. Mark tried to turn and look at him, nearly forcing Johnny to drop him as he attempted to cradle Mark bridal-style to his chest. 

“Johnny, what–”

“I’m carrying you to the bath,” Johnny explained, like it was obvious. He did indeed begin walking towards the bathroom. Mark clutched around Johnny’s neck in fear. He thought Johnny was strong, but like. “Stop worrying, you hardly weigh anything. I can carry you ten yards.”

Mark was set carefully down at the edge of the bathtub, left to check the temperature for himself as Johnny found him a towel. He closed his eyes and slumped over. A bath would be nice. He felt fucking filthy, all sticky and gross. And maybe he could take a nap in there…

He heard Johnny and Yuta muttering at the doorway, but when he looked up, only Johnny was in the bathroom with him. He was digging around the cabinet under the sink, and finally emerged victorious with a pink bottle held high over his head.

“Bubbles!” he cheered, grinning brightly at Mark. Mark laughed weakly, almost disbelieving. “Hop in, Mark. Let’s get you clean.”

🌊 🌊 🌊

Come Sunday, Mark was having breakfast with Jeno at Ted’s diner, slowly eating his way through three plate-sized pancakes. Jaemin and Renjun had dipped on them, and Donghyuck was stuck at rehearsals for the community theater musical, so it was just the two of them. It was nice; it’d been a minute since Mark had gotten in bro-time with Jeno.

And he was absolutely bursting at the seams to tell someone what the fuck had happened on Friday. It seemed too momentous to contain in a text, but Mark was itching to tell someone. He wasn’t going to wait for all their friends to be gathered in one place.

“It was like, so crazy man,” Mark related to Jeno, waving his fork and dripping artificial maple syrup on his white t-shirt. He barely even spared the spot a glance. “Like, I didn’t even know what was happening, and suddenly Yuta-hyung was like, all over me. You remember him from the pool, right, the one with the long hair? And I sent you all his insta profile last week, right? Like, you saw all his tattoos and photoshoots and shit?”

Jeno nodded, smiling slightly at Mark through his mouthful of blueberry pancakes. Mark took it as a sign to go on.

“Bro, can you believe it? He wanted to sleep with me.”

Mark was still kind of in a state of disbelief over the whole thing. He shook his head, like, ‘isn’t that wild?’

“I don’t know why you’re acting like it’s such a surprise, Mark,” Jeno laughed. “You’re pretty awesome, you know. I don’t know why you’re acting like you're batting way out of your league.”

“Uh, because I am?” Mark squinted at Jeno. “I still can’t believe Johnny wants to fuck me, half the time. And then his hot friend from college shows up… He and Yuta could’ve totally just hooked up without me. But Yuta wanted me too, for some reason, so I got called in. That’s crazy.”

Mark ignored the little voice inside him that said Yuta and Johnny probably did hook up without Mark. They were just polite enough not to discuss it in front of him.

“Mark, did you –”

Jeno trailed off.

“Did I…?”

“Did you, like, want to sleep with Yuta?” Jeno asked, voice hushed. Mark furrowed his brows.

“Dude, like. Yeah. You saw him! And you did look at his insta, right?”

“I mean,” Jeno paused and wet his lips, appearing to weigh his words carefully. “I know he’s hot. But did you want to have sex with him, and Johnny? At the same time?”

“Well, that’s what happened,” Mark said slowly, laying a very confused look on his friend. He wasn’t sure what Jeno was getting at. 

The younger boy seemed frustrated.

“I know that’s what happened, Mark,” he sighed through his nose. “Was it what you wanted to happen, is what I’m asking.”

“I mean, like…” Mark sipped on his orange juice contemplatively. “Like, I wouldn’t have asked them, if that’s what you mean. It was their idea.”

Jeno sighed heavily through his nose, like Mark was missing some point that was very obvious to him.

“I know you and Johnny aren’t, like, exclusive or whatever,” Jeno said slowly, spreading the whipped cream on his Belgian waffle into all the little squares with the back of his fork. “But I kinda thought that, you know. You didn’t want to sleep with anyone but him.”

“Well…” Mark looked at the ceiling briefly, then back down at his plate. “I mean, I guess. I don’t want to go out and find other people to fuck, anyways.”

He could’ve sworn Jeno growled under his breath.

“So why did you fuck Yuta too, then? If you only want to sleep with Johnny?”

“Because they asked,” Mark replied, propping his elbow on the table. This conversation was starting to make him feel a bit squirmy. “And like, Yuta is really hot. I’m attracted to him. And when am I ever gonna get the chance to have a threesome again, you know? So. Yeah, I mean, I’m kind of willing to give anything a shot. No point in ruining the vibe because I’m scared of trying new things.”

“Ruining the vibe,” Jeno parroted in a whisper, brow furrowed. 

“I had a good time, Jeno,” Mark patted his hand, comforting him. He sucked up more orange juice through his straw. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You say that,” Jeno gave him a cryptic look. “And yet.”

Mark raised his eyebrows and shoved another bite of pancake into his mouth, kicking his feet to bump against Jeno’s. That finally got a bright smile out of his friend.

“Alright,” he relented. “I won’t keep bothering you about it, I guess. I’m glad you had a good time, at least.”

Mark nodded, shot Jeno a thumbs up.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing.” 

Funny. Mark was hoping the same exact thing.

… 

Come night-time, Mark couldn't stop thinking about Jeno’s face, the concern etched into his features. He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, pulled up his quilt to his chin. Still, sleep wouldn’t come.

He’d been walking around in a horny daze, too fucked out to think about what fucking Yuta meant. Jeno had shattered through it, brought him back down to the real world. And Mark had an unpleasant pit in his stomach, an emotion he could not name weighing down.

It had been – well, it had been a wet dream to have a threesome with Yuta and Johnny. Two older men, looking at him like he was the hottest thing they’d ever seen, both putting all their efforts into wrecking him from sheer pleasure. Two guys who had graduated college, fucked god knows how many people, wanting Mark so bad they had to pass him back and forth, fight over who got to touch him and kiss him and fuck him, run greedy hands all over his body. Mark had bloomed under the attention. He hated to admit it, but he did like to be the center of attention. Lavished with praise, and affection. Sometimes, at least. 

So yeah. The threesome had been a wet dream. But now… Yuta wasn’t here anymore, licking popsicles lavisciously or looming into Mark’s space, overwhelming him with his hotness. He had dropped a comment under the picture Mark posted of him and Jeno at the diner today, hyping him up, leaving a string of fire emojis. That was nice. It was nice of him. Mark liked seeing the comment, Yuta’s name appearing under his post. But the sex… without Yuta all up in his space, being unbearably sexy, Mark didn’t think he wanted to fuck Yuta. Not again, at least.

And it had been good sex! He rolled on his side and buried his face in his pillow, tugging his comforter up above his chin to dig his nose in. It’d been good sex, and he came super hard – twice – and still Mark didn’t have any desire to do it again.

Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for threesomes.

Thinking about this wasn’t making him any sleepier. Mark turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling with a huff, throwing his arms out to his sides in frustration. Alright, maybe if he tried counting sheep...  

🌊 🌊 🌊

Luckily, Mark couldn’t spend all his time overthinking what Johnny meant to him, what he might mean to Johnny. He still had to show up on Monday and start putting in his thirty-six hours for the week, after all. And Johnny was just as usual at work, acting the same way he had all summer – teasing Mark and everyone else and laying out on the pool chairs to work on his tan. Clearly, nothing had changed for him. Mark did his best to follow suit. By Wednesday, he thought he’d gotten the hang of it. If nothing else, he was getting better at compartmentalizing. Johnny at work was different than Johnny in his free time. Johnny at work pretended to be a highly responsible stickler for the rules when the big boss from parks and rec dropped by, then cackled at the story of Jaemin getting drunk back in April and streaking through the high school football field not fifteen minutes later. 

They didn’t hang outside of the pool those three days, but that was chill. He knew Johnny must’ve been seeing Taeyong and Yuta off to the airport on Monday evening, and probably wanted to recoup from the visit. Which seemed like a good idea, actually. Mark was tired out from all his responsibilities, and honestly? Sore. Besides, there was enough shit at work to keep them both busy.

Mark saw it happen through the open window of the guard hut a moment before Sungchan did.

Johnny sprang up suddenly from his sunbathing position on the lounge chairs, the motion snapping Mark’s eyes to him. It didn’t take another second before he spotted what Johnny was sprinting towards – frantic splashing in the water at the shallow end, on the near side to the chaises. Mark launched himself out of his deep slouch on the chair, scrambling to get out of the hut, when he heard Sungchan slap the air horn.

 The loud blare made anyone who hadn’t already noticed the save turn and stare as Johnny used one hand to balance himself as he hopped into the 3 feet of water, taking one, long, splashing step towards the waving arms and head barely poking above the surface. There were more than a few gasps as Mark sprinted towards the edge of the pool, catching Sungchan’s panicked gaze where he sat in chair about ten yards across the way. The younger was on his feet, caught between jumping in like they were trained to for saves or staying on chair to continue guarding everyone else still swimming. Mark was glad he caught him in this moment of frenetic hesitation. 

“Stay up!” he bellowed, gesturing wildly at Sungchan. “Keep scanning! Johnny’s got it, don’t worry!”

Sungchan nodded nervously, and lowered himself back towards sitting at the edge of the chair, leaning forward and scanning vigilantly. Mark’s heart went out to him. The training didn’t really explain what to do if a guard (or manager) on break went in for a save before you did.

Now that he was sure Sungchan was going to keep guarding the rest of the patrons still swimming, Mark let himself give in to the urge to rubberneck with everyone else. Johnny was already carrying the kid out of the water, a little girl who looked to be about five. She’d probably slipped and panicked when she started to go under, because she looked tall enough to stand up in the 3 feet. 

Johnny set her on her feet right in front of a lounge chair and encouraged her to sit down, crouching right in front of her. She was barely coughing, like she hadn’t had the time to inhale much water before Johnny got to her. Her parents had run over by now, and Johnny stood up to talk with them. He was smiling, but the set of his eyes remained serious.

Mark busied himself with grabbing a drill/save report and attaching it to a clipboard, bringing a pen with him as he went over to the little group that had formed. He glared at the ring of patrons who had begun to gather around the poor kid, making them scatter.

“Here,” Mark said, passing the clipboard to Johnny. “I grabbed a report for you.” 

Mark crouched so he was slightly shorter than the girl, to make her feel more comfortable.

“Hey, do you wanna popsicle?”

The little girl nodded enthusiastically, and Mark grinned at her.

“I’ll get you a blue one,” he promised, shooting her a thumbs up. The kids always wanted a blue one. She looked cheered by the prospect.

“Once you grab that popsicle,” Johnny murmured, lowering his voice so the parents wouldn’t hear, “can you go hang with Sungchan? He looks freaked.”

Mark shot chair one a glance. Sungchan did, in fact, look freaked. He nodded his agreement and hurried off to the freezer.

…

Johnny was still dripping wet by the time he came over to meet Mark and Sungchan at chair one, but he’d gotten the chance to grab his towel from the guard hut. Mark tried not to track the shining droplets making their way down Johnny’s torso, making his tanned skin glisten. He swallowed hard as he noticed one drop that traced between his pecs, down his sternum to pool in his belly button. Mark mentally shook himself, forcing himself to look back up at Sungchan. This was so not the time.  

“It was good you stayed on chair,” Johnny told Sungchan, panting a bit as he rubbed his towel over his shoulders. Sungchan looked absolutely miserable where he sat, and Mark wished he could do something other than sympathetically pat his shin. “I had the victim under control. Someone needs to keep scanning in case something else happens while we’re administering help. That’s why one of the managers runs to the chair after you guys hop off for a drill or save. It’d suck if someone else drowned while we were too busy saving the first victim, right?”

Sungchan didn’t even manage a weak chuckle. Johnny sighed, pushing his sunglasses back down over his eyes.

“Yeah, probably not the time to joke. You’re right,” he conceded. “Seriously, Sungchan, don’t worry about it too much. We’ll debrief when you’re off chair, but you’re not in trouble or anything. Chill out and finish the rotation. You’re good.”

With that, Johnny laid a wet slap to the youngest guard’s back and climbed down to finish filing the report.

“It’s fine, dude, seriously,” Mark reassured Sungchan, who was still looking a little queasy on his perch ten feet in the air. Mark climbed up another rung to get closer to his ear, which would be easier if the younger weren’t so damn tall. “The kid had barely started showing signs of distress when Johnny went in. He’s just been doing this for years, you know? He’s got the eagle eye.”

“I can’t believe I missed it,” Sungchan muttered faintly. Mark slapped his back, imitating Johnny’s earlier gesture.

“You would’ve gotten it,” Mark told him confidently. “It just would’ve taken a few seconds longer. The girl still would’ve been fine, so don’t sweat it.”

“How can you be sure?” Sungchan whispered, still not taking his eyes off the water. Mark bit his lip for a moment, faltering. Well, he wasn’t sure, really, but he needed Sungchan to calm down a little bit and stop looking like he was about to fly off chair at the faintest splash. 

“This happens every year,” Mark told him instead, which was true. “Someone off chair just happens to catch the distress signals first, and usually they’re closer, so. They just go in for the save. It’s no biggie, man, for real.” 

“Okay,” Sungchan sighed, and it seemed like the tense hunch of his shoulders might have dropped a centimeter. “Okay. Alright.”

“You got this, Sungchannie!” Mark cheered him on one final time, giving him a one-handed finger gun and swinging himself down the rungs. He wandered back to the guard hut, checking the clock. He had about three minutes before he needed to rotate.

Mark grabbed his water bottle and guzzled from it, searching around the table to find where he had left his sunglasses. Seriously, he needed to stop taking them off his head, because where the fuck – 

“Looking for something?” Johnny drawled. Mark whipped his head to the right only for his sunglasses to be shoved under his nose. He smiled sheepishly at Johnny as he grabbed them and slid them to rest in his hair.

“Haha, thanks, bro.” 

“No prob,” Johnny said casually, leaning back against the table. It looked a bit silly when he did it, because it hit at his mid-thigh and didn’t really offer any support. “Good job out there with Sungchan.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Mark tried to dismiss, grabbing the strap to the guard tube and looping it over his head. Johnny didn’t respond for a moment, and when Mark looked up, he was staring at him, waiting patiently to look Mark in the eyes. Mark swallowed. 

“Really, Mark,” Johnny said slowly. “He looked like he was about to have a heart attack. I’m glad you stayed back to talk him down a bit. And I heard you tell him to stay on chair earlier, too. It was good, how you took the lead.”

“Thanks,” Mark muttered, ducking his head. He felt a blush spreading across his cheeks. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Johnny’s solemn expression slip into a smirk. 

“Definitely supervisory material, Mark Lee.”

Mark was glad he could use rotation as an excuse to run out of the guard hut, Johnny’s laughter chasing him.

Mark climbed on chair, giving Sungchan another bracing shake to his shoulder as they switched places, and he finally let himself be pleased by Johnny’s praise. He didn’t just go throwing it everyone could see him.

If Johnny really meant that, about supervisory material, well. Then Mark probably had that manager spot for next summer in the bag.

He tried to focus on that, and not about how Johnny hadn’t texted him since Saturday, as he scanned the water.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Donghyuck, in typical Donghyuck fashion, had decided that his grad party couldn't be like all the other grad parties. Back in May, Mark had been doubtful.

"Dude, that's like, over a month after we graduate?" Mark had questioned, squinting at the date Hyuck had keyed in on the laptop screen.

"I refuse to compete with other, lesser graduation events," Donghyuck had sniffed, and then promptly hit 'post' on the Facebook event. Loath as Mark was to admit it, Donghyuck had been right – basically every single person he had invited was coming, and they weren’t dipping out halfway through to go to another friend’s grad celebration.

It was now Wednesday the 18th, and Donghyuck's party was Friday. Mark was stuck doing his duties as Best Friend For Life and making the drive down past state lines to obtain illegal fireworks for the party, even though he literally had to be at work at 8 a.m. the next morning. 

"Why," Mark asked helplessly, even as he ducked down into the passenger seat of Donghyuck's light blue mini-Cooper. "Why must you have illegal fireworks."

"Um, because they're fucking sick?" Donghyuck said, in an obvious tone. He arched an eyebrow as Mark fumbled with the seatbelt. "My graduation is a big fucking deal, Mark, it deserves some big fucking fireworks!"

So they had made the trip down the interstate, across state lines where the firework restrictions were slack. They stocked up at the store just off the highway, so giant it resembled a warehouse, and after they’d stuffed Donghyuck’s trunk with the goods they grabbed dinner at a diner nearby.

By the time they were heading back, the sun had long since set over the thick horizon of trees. It got incredibly dark on this road, no street lamps illuminating the way and barely any other cars driving on it at this time of night. It always put Mark into a bit of a trance, just how isolated it could feel, thick foliage pressing in on them like a tunnel, black sky dotted with bright stars, flat, straight road staring them down in the windshield. 

“You’ve been quiet all night,” Donghyuck observed, turning down the volume dial on his precious Hot Top 40 Hits. 

“You’re just loud,” Mark muttered childishly, folding his arms. “And dragging me out late when I have work in the morning.”

“Shut up, we both know that’s not it,” Donghyuck countered brusquely, in the way that meant he actually cared about their conversation, that he was about to be serious with Mark. “Jeno told us that you had a threesome with Yuta and Johnny.”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded once. He’d assumed Jeno would tell everyone. Mark hadn’t told him not to, after all, and it wasn’t exactly the sort of gossip you sat on. “I did.”

“Well, I would’ve thought you wouldn’t shut up about it,” Donghyick said, not half as cutting as he could’ve been. “But you haven’t brought it up once. So what’s up? Was it bad? Did they do some totally weird shit?”

“It wasn’t bad,” Mark sighed, exasperated. He was tempted to counter that Mark knew how to keep his private life private, thank you so much, he didn’t feel the need to overshare about his sex life like Donghyuck did. But that would’ve been a low blow, and dishonest.

“It was good sex. I came twice,” Mark said dully. Hyuck snorted.

“Nice try, but that’s not good enough to get me off your ass,” Donghyuck informed him, giving Mark a knowing glance from the side. He pinched Mark’s thigh fondly, with the kind of familiarity only bred by years. “I’m your best friend, dumbass. Tell me what’s up. I know something is bothering you.”

Mark’s eyes prickled up unexpectedly, his sinuses stinging. What the fuck?

“I guess it…” Mark sniffed, rubbed the heel of his palm over his eyes. He was not going to fucking cry. What the hell was wrong with him? He was glad it was so dark in the car, the Donghyuck had to keep his eyes on the highway, illuminated only by their headlights. “I guess it’s just getting to me that… like, it proved that this really is casual for Johnny, you know? Like his college fuck buddy was back in town, and his summer fuck buddy was hanging around, so it just made sense to have sex with both of us at once. It was, like. Efficient.” 

“He told you it was casual,” Donghyuck reminded him, not unkindly. “No strings, right?” 

“No, like – I know,” Mark said, frustrated. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “I guess, I just thought – I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking you’re in love with him,” Donghyuck told him sympathetically. “And thought maybe he was starting to feel the same.” 

“It’s not that…” Mark trailed off and tilted his head, unsure how to put his vague feelings into words. He definitely wasn’t in love with Johnny. Now that was a fucking terrifying concept. “It’s like, he says it’s casual, right? But then he got so pissed off when I kissed Jungwoo. So like, he is jealous if I hook up with other people…? But then… he was so down with me and Yuta fucking, so like, maybe not? Like, it’s so confusing, dude. I mean – that’s weird, right? How he acted so different?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Donghyuck eventually settled on, fingers tapping the steering wheel. “I mean, I think it’s suss. But you already know that.”

Yeah, Mark did already know that. And Donghyuck was right; he didn’t want to hear it. Because it was one thing to think it when it was 1 a.m. and he couldn’t sleep, but another to hear it from the lips of his best friend. Mark couldn’t convince himself it was just his unreasonable anxieties anymore, his mind making shit up. Donghyuck wouldn’t lie to him; not about this.

“I know Jeno already tried to talk with you about this, but…” Donghyuck sounded cautious. The hesitancy just made the anger rush through Mark even faster, flushing his face red and making his lip curl. So his friends were talking about him behind his back, now? Discussing all his problems? How to fix poor, dumb, naive Mark?

“What, did you all meet up without me to talk shit about me or something? Jesus, this is so not what I nee-” 

“Shut up – you know it’s not that,” Donghyuck cut him off sharply, tone a warning. “We are your best friends, Mark. We’re worried about you. We’re allowed to do that.” 

Mark settled back in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead out the windshield and determinedly avoiding looking at Donghyuck’s profile. He felt embarrassed now, wilting in his seat. Suitably chastised, Mark murmured, “Sorry.”

“Anyways,” Donghyuck continued doggedly, charitably pretending Mark’s outburst hadn’t happened, “are you sure you weren’t pressured into that threesome? Like, they did ask you first, right?”

“Yeah?” Mark wished he didn’t sound so unsure, even to his own ears. “I mean, yes. I think. Like… kind of? They asked for my consent, definitely.”

"Okay, well, try to look at it like… I don't know... I guess, like, if they discussed it with you beforehand, would you still have agreed?"

"Yeah," Mark said, after a moment's consideration. "Yeah, I think I would've. I'm really attracted to Yuta, and obviously Johnny is... Johnny. So, you know. And like, when will I ever get the chance to have a threesome again?"

"It's fine to try things and not like them, dude," Donghyuck said, with an undue amount of gravitas. "Sometimes you just have to make the mistake for yourself."

Mark blinked at him. Donghyuck seemed to sense Mark's disbelieving expression without even looking away from the road.

"Shut up, Mark. I can be deep. I took AP Psych!"

"I guess it was a learning experience," Mark conceded with a bitter laugh. He didn’t exactly feel better, but he felt lighter. Like something inside him had untwisted a bit.

“I just wish I wasn’t so fucked up over something I’ve jacked off to every night this week, you know?” Mark spoke into the silence that had settled over them, uncharacteristically frank. It was easier to say it in the dark.

“Jesus Christ,” Hyuck muttered with a dark chuckle, slamming his skull back against the headrest and ticking up the speedometer another five miles per hour.  

“Yeah,” Mark sighed, tucking his knee up and resting the side of his face on it. The sky was so dark, now; and still the trees created an even darker corridor around the interstate, engulfing them. “I guess it’s kind of my fault. I probably shouldn’t have ever started anything with Johnny, to be honest. I already had feelings for him, I was never gonna be able to do ‘no strings’. I just wish… I wish that he wasn’t so great, you know? It’s so hard to not like him too much.”

“Well, I think he’s fucked in the head,” his best friend said frankly. Mark choked on a disbelieving laugh, so startled knee slipped down off his seat and slammed his foot back to the car floor with a thump. “I can’t imagine taking you on all those dates and having that much sex and not falling in love with you, bro. You’re amazing. Like, such a good catch. Johnny is missing out.”

“Duckie...” Mark whispered, childish nickname slipping out without meaning to. His heart was clenching with overwhelming affection.

Donghyuck’s right hand left the steering wheel to unerringly place a finger over Mark’s lips, without even glancing away from the road.

“Don’t make this mushy, Mark Lee,” he warned, as if he weren’t the one that poured unbearable sap all over this conversation. “You’re just incredible, okay? And you’re my best friend. Anyone would be fucking lucky to date you. If Johnny’s not locking it down, he’s crazy and he’s stupid.”

“Alright!” Mark laughed, willing to concede it this one time. It was clear by his voice that he didn’t believe it, though, not a word.

“Say it! Say it, Mark! Say it with me: ‘Johnny Suh is crazy and he’s stupid.’” Donghyuck made it nearly a chant, sing-song. 

“Hyuck, Jesus.”

“Say it.”  

“Fine!” Mark relented, throwing up his hands. Unconvincingly, he recited, “Johnny Suh is crazy and he’s stupid.”

“Good,” Mark caught the glint of Donghyuck’s white teeth in the driver’s seat. The younger was clearly grinning. “Alright, part two. Repeat after me: I’m a great catch.”

“Donghyuck-”

“Mark.”

“I’m a great catch,” Mark intoned, voice flat. Donghyuck reached for his shoulder in the dark and squeezed, in the way Mark only allowed because it was his best friend.

“Damn right you are,” he said, turning up the dial on the radio. “And don’t you forget it.”

🌊 🌊 🌊

Dealing with a full day of work on about five hours of sleep wasn’t Mark’s ideal, and that was before factoring in the semi-breakdown he had in Donghyuck’s car. He went through his shift on Thursday like a zombie, bad enough to garner concern from even Jaemin (in the form of a Snickers bar fresh from the mini-fridge chucked at his head, which was as good as an I love you! from Jaemin). Mark didn’t even put up a token protest, just ate the candy bar gladly. Surprisingly, it did take the edge off the emotional hangover. Even so, Mark could probably sleep twelve hours tonight and still be tired at Donghyuck’s party tomorrow evening.

He’d kinda been hoping to nap in Johnny’s car on the ride home from work, but no dice.

"You doin' anything your birthday weekend?" Johnny asked, casually tapping his fingers against the wheel. Mark hummed, closing his tired eyes as he rested his head back on the seat.

"Nah," he mumbled, stifling a yawn. He wanted to roll down a window and feel the breeze rushing past him, but he wasn't sure if Johnny would be cool with letting the AC escape. "Family party's on Thursday. I'll probably just chill out with the boys or something."

"Well..." Johnny suddenly sounded cautious, for some reason. Mark cracked one eye open to peer at him. His profile, only lit by the streetlamps, wasn't giving much away, but if he had to guess... Johnny seemed kind of nervous. The older boy coughed slightly, clearing his throat. "Well, I don't want to infringe on any of your plans, but–"

Mark mouthed 'infringe' to himself, aghast at Johnny's sudden use of AP Lang vocab.

"Dude, there's literally no plans. You won't 'infringe' on anything, don't worry," Mark drawled with a furrow of his eyebrows, hoping his air quotes weren't too obvious. He didn't want Johnny to think he was mocking him, not when the elder seemed on edge for the first time... like, ever, honestly. Johnny snorted slightly, using his right hand to tug his hair free from his mini-bun and shake it loose.

"Alright," he replied teasingly, and yeah. He'd definitely picked up on the air quotes. "Well, in that case, how do you feel about coming to The 1975 concert with me? It's Saturday, and I've already got a hotel room booked up in DC."

Mark shot up straight in his seat, wrenching his eyes open. He blinked owlishly at Johnny.

"Dude, seriously?" he squeaked. Johnny's mouth curled in a slight smile.

"Yeah, seriously," he confirmed, shooting a quick sideways glance at Mark, hitting him with the full force of his grin. "Do you like 'em?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mark rushed to assure Johnny, slapping a hand excitedly on his forearm. He was like, familiar with the name. He was bisexual, he had a tumblr account! He'd definitely heard, like ‘Sex’. And Yeri played ‘Chocolate’ in the car all the time. He definitely liked them. Like, enough. He could learn their discography, he was sure. He was not gonna let an opportunity to go to a fucking concert and stay in a fucking hotel room with Johnny slip through his fingers. "Yo, oh my god, are you for real?"

"Yes, Mark, I am absolutely, one-hundred percent, for real," Johnny confirmed again, fully laughing. Mark didn't even care that he was being laughed at. There was an uncontrollable smile stretching his mouth, and something warm filling his chest. "Happy birthday, Markie."

"Oh my god!" Mark squealed again, slapping his hands against his thighs. "Johnny, oh my god, that's too much bro – how much were the tickets, I can just–"

"Nope," Johnny cut him off with a raised hand. Mark fell silent, mouth still open. "Absolutely not. It's your birthday present, you can't pay for it. It's against the rules."

"Are you sure?" Mark asked again, eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs. Concert tickets, and a hotel room... that had to have been a fair bit of cash.

Johnny put on a fake scowl.

"Ask me one more time and you're uninvited," he threatened, but the smirk threatening to tug up the corner of his lip gave him away. Mark pretended to zip his mouth shut and relaxed in his seat again, pinching the inside of his forearm to prevent a manic grin from setting in.

"I'll drive us up," Johnny told him. Maybe it was just in Mark's head, but the fingers tapping at his steering wheel seemed a bit more cheerful, now. "Grab you at, like, 10 on Saturday morning? Then we can grab some food in the city before we head over to the venue."

"Sounds awesome," Mark enthused, rubbing his hands up the rough bathing suit material covering his thighs. They'd reached Mark's house by now, and he leaned over the console to press a quick kiss to Johnny's mouth.

Johnny caught his chin, held him in place as he kissed him properly, long and slow. He went in for a second, and then another, and Mark probably would have allowed another but his arm was starting to ache from holding himself up at such a weird angle. He pressed one final peck to Johnny's mouth and pulled back reluctantly, sliding out of the passenger seat.

"Thanks for the ride, Johnny."

"Anytime, bro, seriously," Johnny said, and his white teeth glinted in the dark from his open-mouthed smile. As always, Mark couldn't help but smile back.

Mark's grin held up as long as it took him to cross the threshold of his front door and slam it shut with a final wave. As soon as he was safe within the house, he whipped out his phone and pulled up Spotify, typing in 'The 1975' and immediately pressing play on the "This is The 1975" curated playlist, popping in his earbuds hurriedly as he scrambled up the stairs.

"Hey mom, hey dad, good night!" he called over his shoulder, getting bemused responses in return.

Mark flopped onto his bed, turning up the volume on 'Love it if We Made It' as he opened his laptop and went into hardcore research mode. One tab for the band's wikipedia page, another for their Youtube channel, another for Genius lyrics, and finally – one for the setlist of the Music for Cars tour.

It was nearing 3 a.m. by the time Mark finally let himself slide his laptop away and snuggle under the covers, removing his headphones for the first time in hours.  Fuck getting enough sleep. The sheer high of Johnny inviting Mark to spend a weekend away with him was going to power him for at least the next 72 hours.

His ears were ringing a bit from the sudden absence of music. Mark was confident he had at least half the setlist down, familiar enough with the choruses to sing along, and could passably describe every music video posted in the past year to their channel if asked.

It would be a lot easier, he mused, with no small amount of grumpiness, if the lead singer would fucking enunciate.

🌊 🌊 🌊

It had been nearly two weeks since roommate assignments dropped – and still, no signs of life from his future roomie. It was the last weekend of July, and the elusive Yukhei Wong had not appeared on Facebook, or Instagram, or Twitter, despite Yeri’s exhaustive efforts to stalk him. More concerningly – he had not replied to Mark’s email.

“Do you think he’s like, dropping out?” Mark worried, trying not to gnaw at his thumbnail as he slid into Johnny’s car. They were going to the quarry today, because Johnny wanted to get Mark on the zipline.

Mark was afraid of heights. The zipline was at the top of a fifty-foot cliff. It’d be fine though. Totally fine. Cool. Fun, even. Maybe…  

He was trying not to think about it. He was trying to think about the problem with his roommate Yukhei Wong ghosting him. Was it even ghosting if no contact had been established yet? Pre-ghosting? Phantoming? Johnny’s voice pulled Mark out of his anxious spiral just before he began chewing his nails. 

“Maybe?” Johnny said, more focused on getting into the right lane off the exit ramp than Mark’s pre-freshman year woes. Mark tried not to shrink back in the passenger seat. Maybe this was like, boring, for Johnny to listen to. Or annoying. “It’s weird that he doesn’t have any social media, though. And weirder that he hasn’t responded to your email. That’s, like, legit strange, man. Both of mine responded within two days.”

“You had a triple?” Mark asked, intrigued, before shaking his head. Not really the point. The point was that Johnny was validating his anxieties, when Johnny was one of the chillest dudes he knew. “Sorry, never mind. But yeah! Like, I need to know who’s gonna rent the mini-fridge, you know? Can you imagine if we both waste money on one, and then two mini-fridges show up at our door on move-in, and we have to figure out how to cram two in the room? Jesus.”

“A genuine disaster,” Johnny intoned, mouth set in a solemn line. He shook his head, sighing exaggeratedly. “Truly the worst-case scenario.”

“Oh, shut up,” Mark complained good-naturedly, slapping Johnny on the bicep. He gazed out the side window to hide the grin creeping over his face. Johnny snickered under his breath, getting through the stoplight that put them on the long country road out to the quarry. 

They drove in companionable silence for a few minutes, a large hand settling on Mark’s thigh. An appropriate place, this time, just above his knee. It was warm and dry on Mark’s tanned skin, and he admired Johnny’s neat cuticles. He shot a furtive glance at the older boy. His eyes were on the road, half-obscured behind his Wayfarers. Mark pressed his lips together, then settled his hand over Johnny’s. He tried to make the motion casual; not cautious. 

Not a moment passed before Johnny turned his wrist over to offer Mark his palm, tangling their fingers together easily. They were holding hands properly. In Johnny’s car. Mark bit back a large smile, rolling down the window to enjoy the breeze through his hair. 

“It’ll be fine, you know,” Johnny told him, picking up the thread of their conversation from where it’d been dropped two songs on the radio ago. Mark blinked at him, turning away from his view of trees rushing past, broken by the occasional house. It took him a minute to remember what they’d been discussing. Oh. Mark’s M.I.A. roommate. Right. “I can’t imagine you not getting along with someone, bro. You’re, like, the friendliest person ever, for real. Everyone loves you. Whoever your roomie is, they lucked out.”

Everyone loves you.

“Hey, thanks man,” Mark replied, feeling pretty touched. He chanced a squeeze of Johnny’s hand, got a squeeze back. “You don’t, like, have to reassure me or anything, haha. I’m sure it will be fine. Just wish he’d reply soon so we don’t end up with the mini-fridge disaster scenario.”

Everyone loves you.

“’S all good,” Johnny said easily, using his thumb on the cool steering wheel control buttons to turn up the volume of the radio. ‘The Middle’. Mark liked this one, sang along in the car to it with Donghyuck all the time. “Now, are you ready for this quarry, dude? Are you hyped for this zipline?!”

“You already know it!” Mark laughed in response, turned up the volume even louder. Johnny’s grin gave him whiskers, visible in profile like this. The sunlight filtered in through the windshield, shining off his chestnut hair, while the dapple of clouds cast moving shadows over his body. He looked beautiful. 

Mark ached.

Everyone loves you.

But not Johnny. Not the way Mark wanted, at least.

He wondered, as they pulled into the dirt parking lot and unearthed their already-signed waivers from the disaster zone of the backseat, if that was enough.

It wasn’t. Mark knew his heart, liked to think he knew himself quite well. It wasn’t enough. But he had already decided he would take whatever he could get, with Johnny. Whatever he could get.

He was nearly hyperventilating as he was strapped into the zipline, feet firmly planted in the ground. Unwilling to start running and take that leap, off a cliff and into the open air, trusting a wire to hold him up, carry him to safety on the other side of the quarry. For a long moment, Mark thought – I can’t do this. God, what am I doing. Why the fuck am I up here? I can’t do this. I can’t.

And then Johnny’s palm, large and now familiar, clapped over his shoulder. Mark turned his head, gulping anxiously. He tried to hide his fear, how absolutely frozen he was. Johnny shook him gently, smiling softly. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine,” he reassured Mark, easy as anything. Maybe for him, it was. “I’ll meet you on the other side, ‘kay?”

Everyone loves you.  

Mark nodded, swallowed one more time, and turned to face the edge of the cliff. He took a deep breath, held it in his chest and let it widen his shoulders. He nodded at the employee waiting for him, and they gave him the thumbs-up and a smile. He stared at the open air, and gave himself a running start.

He jumped off the cliff.

It didn’t even feel like falling. The harness supported him around his back, his abdomen, his thighs. He was secure, cradled in the middle of the sky, and an exhilarated laugh escaped his mouth as he gazed down at the opaque turquoise water below, rushing past him and rushing closer as the line dipped down. 

There was a loud ‘whoop!’ from behind him. Mark chanced a glance back, needing to check. There Johnny was, bouncing on his feet, waving his arms in the air like an absolute goof, cheering Mark on. It made him laugh a second time, a genuine thing that stretched his mouth into a smile and made the apples of his cheeks ache.

Once he’d come to a skipping stop in the landing zone, and wriggled out of his harness, Mark plopped down on the deck and waited for Johnny to arrive. The elder boy was laughing like crazy, skidding his heels on the surface of the water so huge sprays trailed in his wake. He practically leapt out of the water and onto the dock, reaching his hand down to yank Mark up out of his sitting position.

“Dude, did you see that? Wasn’t it sick ?” he yelled, right in Mark’s face, grin stretching as wide as it ever had. His hands landed on his shoulders, shaking him perhaps a bit too hard for this slippery dock. “Yo, Mark, you did great! Wasn’t that fun?”

“So freaking fun,” Mark confirmed, grabbing Johnny’s shoulders and shaking him right back. He was so happy, he thought his heart might burst.

In that moment, Mark thought, everyone loves you, and believed that might be enough. Whatever small way Johnny loved him, that might be enough. For now.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Mark wasn’t expecting anything when he unlocked his phone, slumping down into a chair beside Yeri in the guard house. He opened his water bottle with his teeth and chugged half of it down absently, flicking lazily past his notifications to his home screen. His email app had an annoying red ‘13’ on it – Mark scrunched his nose in distaste.

Well, he had forty minutes. Might as well clear it out. Spam, spam, promotional offer, spam, promotional offer from Dunkin’ that Mark might actually use, email from his grandma (Mark flagged that one to respond to later), email from UCLA’s bookstore, spam, ‘HEY ROOMIE!!!’, spam –

Wait. Wait.

Mark scrolled back down and blinked at the subject line, bold and cheerful in his inbox. He peered at it. Just below the promising subject line was the sender’s address: [email protected].

Mark’s thumb hovered over the rectangle. Could it – it had been over two weeks, was it really –

Well, at least it didn’t seem like a message that said that his roommate had taken a look at Mark’s Facebook profile and decided to drop out rather than face rooming with him. He took a deep breath and opened it up.

The sheer PERSONALITY and CHEERFULNESS smacked Mark in the face, putting a smile on his mouth before he’d even read past the first two sentences.

Yukhei Wong

To: [email protected]

HEY ROOMIE!!!

Hi, Mark Lee!! This is your roommate!! I’m so sorry it took me so long to respond to your email, I was backpacking with my family in Huangshan and didn’t have internet for a couple weeks!! It was so sick though, the mountains are gorgeous. Maybe we can go hiking sometime! Angeles National Forest here we come baby!! ...But I am sorry I was late responding to your email :(

You can call me Lucas btw!! My legal name in Mandarin is technically Yukhei so all my uni stuff is under that but I’m planning on going by Lucas in the US :D It’s already what I use for my insta handle haha. All my family and friends call me Xuxi and that’s what my Weibo and stuff is under so you can use that too if you’d like!

Do you want to coordinate our color schemes? I think it’d be cool! I’ll send you pics of the comforter and blanket I’m considering ordering from target and you can lmk how you feel!! I’m too lazy to attach it to this email hahaha but I’ll text it to you. I’d also like to get a shag rug, I think it’d look sickk. And a beanbag, because I’ve always wanted one. lmk

Bro, are you planning on renting a minifridge?? Because I tried pulling up the form and it hates my internet server here :((

SO pumped for the semester dude, you would not believe!! Here’s to an awesome freshman year, and I can’t wait to meet you in person Mark Lee!!

xoxo, Lucas

p.s. my number is x-xxx-xxxx I just got an American sim card!! You can be the first contact other than my parents and brother!! :D and my insta is lucas_xs444 <3

“Yeri,” Mark said, right hand shooting out to grab her forearm. She hummed absently. Mark tightened his fingers until she hissed, swatting him away. “Yeri. My roommate emailed me back.”

“What?!” she yelped, which was the response Mark had been gunning for. “What did he say? Is he a douchebag? Does he have a good reason for ignoring you or do I have to kill him?”

“Yes! I mean, no he’s not a douchebag, yes he had a good reason,” Mark quickly clarified, still staring at the email in amazement. He realized this would be a good time to save Lucas’ contact info. And check out his instagram. Second one first, actually. It was the more pressing manner. What the hell did the dude Mark was going to be living with for a year look like?

“He’s an international student, and he was backpacking the past couple weeks,” Mark explained to Yeri, tapping in the clapped-ass username Lucas had given him. His thumb hovered over the profile. He couldn’t bring himself to tap it. This was it. This was, like… the moment of truth.

“For fuck’s sake, Mark, give me that,” Yeri snatched the phone out of Mark’s hand, irritated that it was taking him so long to open it. Mark hadn’t even noticed her hovering over his shoulder, reading the screen. “He’s already following you, good. His bio doesn’t say anything…”

Mark held his breath. Yeri’s eyes went wide.

“Holy fuck.”

Yeri stared at the phone screen, unblinking, mouth slightly agape. The only movement was her thumb, rapidly scrolling through the backlog of Lucas’ feed.

“Holy fuck, Mark. Holy fuck,” she whispered, nearly reverent. “Your roommate is a fucking babe. Holy shit, he is so hot.”

“What?” Mark screeched, leaning forward and snatching the phone from her hands. “What do you mea– Oh. Oh my god. Holy shit.”

“I can’t believe this,” Yeri sat back in her chair and pressed her fingers to her lips, eyes closed like she was having a moment of religious rapture. “I can’t believe you are rooming with one of the hottest people in the world. Mark, if he looks even half as good in person as he does in photos… you are going to immolate on sight.”

“I can’t believe this,” Mark whimpered, torn between groaning and cheering.

He covered one eye with his hand, like that would help him in the face of his roommate’s beauty. No wonder his Instagram had 250,000 followers! His Weibo probably had even more! Mark was pretty sure he was having an out of body experience as he scrolled through the well-curated feed. Post after post of Lucas’ bright smile and perfect white teeth, his cut jawline, his tan skin, his abs, his corded legs in a pair of shorts, his muscled arms hefting a surfboard over his head while he grinned wildly into the bright sun – this guy was a god. And he was Mark’s roommate.

“Yeri, Yeri, he was so nice in the email–” Mark told her frantically, still compulsively scrolling back. He was well into Lucas’ freshman year of high school pictures now, and the dude hadn’t even looked bad then! He had been painfully cute! Mark had deleted all his pictures from before he was sixteen, what the fuck! “Like, unbelievably nice, you have no idea. Oh my god, he’s hot and he’s nice.”

“Lemme read it,” she demanded, hand already out. Mark pulled up the thread and wordlessly passed it over. He watched Yeri’s eyes round out, her nose going closer to the screen as she read.

“He sounds like an excited puppy,” was the verdict. Yeri set Mark’s phone firmly on the table. They looked at it like it was a precious artifact, to be feared and revered. Much like Lucas’ Instagram account.

“Mark,” Yeri said solemnly, putting her hand over her heart. “You won the roommate jackpot. Congratulations, my friend. Congratu-fucking-lations.”

…

“I’m glad your roommate shit ended up working out,” Johnny told Mark, pushing his soaked hair out from his eyes. Johnny always looked so different with it all slicked back like this. Mark admired him for a moment. He wondered if Johnny thought Mark looked different when his hair was wet and slicked back. He wondered if Johnny thought it was attractive. “Told you it would.”

“Um, no, you did not,” Mark countered. He distinctly remembered that conversation on the way to the quarry as having given him more anxiety, not less.

“Look, how was I supposed to know that his social media profiles were all under a different name?”

Mark was saved from responding to that by intervention via a beach ball bouncing on his head, then landing in the water with a gentle splash right in front of Johnny. Mark patted his hair, putting on a show of being disgruntled for the benefit of the kids who had smacked the ball their way. Two lifeguards standing in the pool were the best kind of targets, after all. Mark couldn’t blame them for taking advantage.

“Got any birthday plans?” Johnny asked Mark idly, flipping the inflatable ball in his hands before hitting it lazily back at the group of kids eagerly waiting about fifteen feet away. Mark watched with a smile on his face as the kids, probably all around 7 or 8, fought desperately for possession of the ball, getting pulled under and play-wrestling trying to get it out of their friend’s hands. He finally registered that Johnny had actually asked him something requiring a response and turned to him, delayed. Johnny was watching him with fond amusement, idly scratching a mosquito bite on his upper arm.

“Other than the concert with me, I meant. Do you have anything planned on the day of?” Johnny reiterated.

“Oh, yeah,” Mark replied. He leaned back on the noodle he’d liberated from the supply closet, as if it were an armchair. “I think I told you, but we’re having a party on the second, just my family. And the guys and Yeri, I guess. I’m taking the day off.”

“Yeah, I saw the sub form,” Johnny told him, tugging at the end of the noodle to pull Mark’s floating body a bit closer. “Why are you only taking Thursday off? You could find coverage for Friday too, no problem.”

“It’s not like the party is gonna go late, Johnny,” Mark laughed, looking at him over his sunglasses. “My aunts and uncles are gonna leave at like, seven. And I’m sure everyone else will clear out by eight because they all have work in the morning too. I’m not gonna be hungover or anything. It’s just pizza and cake in my backyard.”

“Sounds fun,” Johnny hummed, and sneakily tried to rest his weight on the end of the noodle. Mark yelped and splashed him defensively, kicking himself a safe distance away. Johnny’s heavy ass would sink the whole thing and pull Mark underwater.

“Still. Let me know if you want Friday off.”

“I’m good, Johnny. I’m trying to save up for college, you know? I don’t wanna miss any shifts I don’t need to.”

“I get it,” Johnny hummed, settling into a backfloat. He paddled his hands in small little circles, directing himself to drift closer to Mark. “Hey, if you’re not doing anything else on the second after your party is over…”

“Yeah?” Mark arched an eyebrow. Johnny rolled in the water and stood up, grinning crookedly at Mark.

“Leave it open for me, alright? Text me once everyone leaves, and I’ll come pick you up,” Johnny sounded somewhere between a request and an order. Mark smirked at him, flicking a little spray of water his way with his finger.

“Yeah? You gonna take me out, big boy?”

Johnny didn’t bother responding verbally. He just dove under the surface and grabbed Mark’s ankle, pulling him down to the pool floor with him. 

By the time Mark fought his way back up, they were both in danger of choking on the chlorinated water from laughing too hard. Mark pulled his sunglasses from his face and shook them, trying in vain to get the water droplets off.

“I’ll leave it free for you, don’t worry.”

🌊 🌊 🌊

Mark's party was a nice, chill affair in his backyard, the way it had basically been since he was 13 and decided he had 'outgrown' 'real' parties (Mark kind of wishes he hadn't so foolishly decided that, because it would've been so cool to have his sixteenth at Laser Quest, but alas). His parents set out three folding tables and unearthed an unfathomable amount of lawn chairs from the depths of the garage, so there was plenty of room to lay out the pizza and cake. And enough seats for all the adults – meaning, people over the age of thirty, not Mark and his friends, even though they were literally adults – to lounge around and rest their legs while they gossiped.

Mark had happily blown out his twenty candles (one for good luck!) and plowed through his first slice of cake, and was now steadily working through the second.

"What'd you wish for?" Donghyuck asked him through a mouthful of vanilla crumbs and blue frosting, the same way he did every year. Mark rolled his eyes, the same way he did every year.

"Not telling," he parroted the response he'd been giving his best friend since his eighth birthday, the first Donghyuck had ever attended. It sounded a touch more sardonic now than it had back then. "If I tell it won't come true!"

In truth, Mark hadn't made a wish this year. If he had, he might have wasted it on something foolish.

Judging by Donghyuck's raised eyebrow, he had a fair idea of what Mark was trying to push from his mind. Mark turned stubbornly away from him and tried to engage Yeri in a debate about the best The 1975 album, which only led to Jaemin cutting in.

“So. You excited about your little weekend getaway?” Jaemin asked, somewhat snidely. 

He still resented having to interact with Johnny and Mark at work, claiming they were ‘disgusting’. Mark didn’t see it. They were just normal bros at work, nothing more. Compartmentalization. Mark and Johnny were all about compartmentalization. They were fucking pros. And Mark had walked in on Jeno sucking Jaemin off in the supply closet after closing last summer, so Jaemin could shut his damn mouth about his opinions on Mark and Johnny. 

“I still can’t believe your parents are really just letting Johnny take you to D.C. for the weekend,” Renjun sighed enviously. “Even for them, that’s lax.”

“They’ve been really cool about Johnny all summer,” Mark explained through a mouthful of cake. “I mean, you know how they are.”

“They won’t let me take you on a whirlwind trip,” Donghyuck whined, pouting slightly. Mark rolled his eyes. The ‘whirlwind trip’ in question was Donghyuck’s family vacation to Orlando with all his younger siblings. A week babysitting in some of the biggest tourist traps in the world was a far cry away from staying over one night in the city, in Mark’s humble opinion. They weren’t really in the same ballpark. “Boyfriend privilege is so unfair.”

“They don’t think Johnny is my boyfriend,” he laughed. All seven heads whipped around to stare at him. 

“What?” Mark shoved another bite of cake in his mouth and raised his eyebrows at his friends, who had all suddenly stopped eating.

“Mark,” Jeno said slowly, setting down his plastic fork to rest on his plate. “Your parents definitely think Johnny is your boyfriend.”

“Wha— Why — why would they think that?” Mark stuttered. Jisung pulled a face of exasperated disgust, smushing his cake beneath the weak prongs of his plastic fork.

“You literally hang out with him, like, four days a week,” Chenle said, squinting at Mark. “He takes you on fucking dates, bro. High effort ones, even. Like, that quarry shit? Damn.”

“Plus, you see each other at work five days a week,” Jisung cut in, wiping the corners of his mouth free of blue frosting. “He gives you rides home half the time.”

“You literally keep ditching us for him,” Donghyuck added, arching a brow at Mark. Renjun nodded in agreement, feeding his boyfriend a forkful of cake (gross).

“Have I–” Mark knew he had blown off a couple casual group hang-outs to spend time with Johnny, but he felt like he’d seen his friends a lot. “Have I really been ditching you guys?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin nodded, sour expression on his face. “Last summer before college and you’re out at all hours with some boy .”

“Okay, now you sound like a parent,” Yeri cut in with a laugh, trying to diffuse the tension that had welled up in the air suddenly, thick as the August humidity.

“I mean – you guys have dipped out on plans, too,” Mark pointed out. 

He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so defensive, but it was like he’d suddenly been poked in the belly with a stick when he was least expecting it. He didn’t want to justify the time he spent with Johnny, but, like – it was so unfair. Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun and Donghyuck didn’t have to worry about missing out on couple time when they hung out with their friends, because they were all in the friend group! They would never understand what a different boat Mark was in from them. Even Jisung felt comfortable bringing his girlfriends around, when he wanted. Mark knew they wouldn’t give Johnny the same energy, the same easy acceptance.

Not that he wanted Johnny to come around and hang with his friends! Johnny and him weren’t even dating – that was the starting point of this conversation, actually, that they weren’t boyfriends. But just like, in theory. Conceptually. It was unfair how Mark spending time with a hypothetical girlfriend/boyfriend meant less time with his friends, when it didn’t mean the same for them.

“I mean, sure, we’ve all skipped out on plans sometimes,” Renjun said, eyeing Mark keenly. That look meant nothing good for Mark. “But you haven’t been bothering to make plans with us in the first place, is the thing.”

“Oh,” Mark said, staring down at his half-eaten slice of cake. He wasn’t all that hungry anymore. “Well… sorry, I guess.”

“It’s cool,” Jeno said, shifting uncomfortably. There was a painfully awkward silence settling in the air. Yeri broke it by leaning over to shove her fork into Mark’s cake slice, stealing a bite and putting it in her mouth happily.

“Well,” Yeri said through her chewing. “Personally, I’m sick of you, Mark Lee! I see entirely too much of you at work. Honestly, I can’t believe I came here and saw you some more voluntarily.”

“It’s my birthday,” Mark pouted dramatically, playing along with what Yeri was trying to do. He appreciated it. “Be nice to me, it’s my birthday!”

“Speaking of birthdays, Mark, you haven’t even opened my present yet!” Chenle exclaimed, eyes widening. He wrapped his fingers around Mark’s wrist, uncaring of how sticky his hand was, and began dragging him over to the folding table everyone had placed their gifts on. “You’re gonna fucking love it, I did such a good job.”

“I’m sure you did,” Mark laughed indulgently. He took the bag that Chenle shoved into his arms, tissue paper covering his face until he lowered it slightly.

“Mark! Don’t sneak off to open presents without us!” his mom called, frantically herding everyone in the backyard over to surround him. Mark laughed while Chenle gave her the most angelic of pouts, clasping his hands together like he was a goddamn cherub.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lee,” Chenle said, the very picture of contriteness. “I just got so excited to give Mark mine!”

“Aww, it’s okay sweetheart,” his mom said, pinching his cheek. Chenle beamed at her. “Mark, make sure you open cards first!”

“I know, Mom,” Mark groaned, but he gamely waited for everyone to find their way over to the table, and pulled out the envelope (corners slightly bent, no name on the front, and so very typical of Chenle) to open in front of all their eager eyes.

He really did love his birthday.

🌊 🌊 🌊

It took longer than expected for his friends to head home, pulling the cheap lawn chairs in Mark’s backyard into a circle and shooting the shit the way they hadn’t for… ages, really. Mark remembered what they’d said earlier, about him blowing them off all summer, and embraced the time with them, pushing any thoughts about his vague plans with Johnny out of his head. By the time Renjun had dozed off wrapped in Donghyuck’s sweatshirt and the whole group decided to head out, it was well past 10 p.m. Mark winced when he checked his phone after waving goodbye to the back of his friend's cars.

Mark was apprehensive, opening his message thread with Johnny. It was way later than Mark had told him to expect, and Johnny had work in the morning, too… What if he’d dozed off, waiting for Mark’s message. He gnawed at his thumbnail as he sent off ‘sorry, people stayed late 😬😬 all good to go now!! 😁😁 ’.

Whatever he had been expecting when he sent that text, it wasn’t Johnny shooting him a thumbs-up reaction not ten seconds later. He definitely hadn’t expected Johnny to pull up outside his house less than ten minutes later, almost like he’d been waiting for Mark’s text.

“Happy birthday, Markie!” he cheered, rolling down the window to grin at Mark as he approached the Crosstrek.

“Thanks,” Mark said bashfully, smiling widely as he slid in and clasped the seatbelt. He turned in the seat to kiss Johnny hello, then poke him in the bicep. “Where are you taking me?”

“The beach,” Johnny said, like it was obvious. Mark furrowed his eyebrows.

“Uh, dude, I’m not wearing a suit – and I don’t have towels, or anything–”

“It’s fine,” Johnny dismissed his concerns with a lazy wave of his hand, taking the turn down the local road that led to the nearest town beach. “I got the towels covered, Mark. They’re in the back!”

“Wow,” Mark muttered, shooting a glance over his shoulder at the absolute disaster in the backseat. “Can’t believe I missed them.”

“Oh my god, shut up, you absolute brat.”

“It’s my birthday!” Mark crowed, slapping Johnny on the thigh. “You can’t call me a brat! Or tell me to shut up!”

“Leos really are insufferable,” Johnny announced with a sigh, shooting a mournful little glance at Mark from the corner of his eye. “I thought you were different, but here we are.”

… 

Johnny had carried the towels out to the sand with them, but it wasn’t until they walked about a third of a mile south from the beach entrance that Mark realized he had said nothing about swim suits. Johnny wasn’t wearing one, either, and he didn’t have any in the bundle of towels.

“I think here is good,” Johnny dropped the towels in the sand and put his hands on his hips, looking side to side, like he was surveying the beach. “Yeah, this is good.”

He promptly pulled off his shirt. Mark blinked. He was starting to get an inkling of what Johnny’s plans were, but he couldn’t be… he wouldn’t really –

But Johnny kept stripping down on the sand, long lines of his body lit sensually by the moonlight, until he was in nothing but his underwear.

“Johnny,” Mark hissed, scandalized. The elder was unfazed, just hopped out of his boxers and left them piled on top of his shirt, shorts and sandals, pooled in the sand. “Johnny, what are you doing?” 

“What does it look like?” Johnny asked, tilting his head at Mark. His teeth glinted in the moonlight, and Mark tried desperately to ignore how his clavicle was half-illuminated and sharp. “Skinny-dipping, Markly. Come with.”

“I– I –” Mark spluttered, but his own hands were already tugging off his shirt without his permission.

Johnny had already splashed his way into the water, put his hands together in a streamline and dove right into a wave, kicking under it and popping up on the other side, shoulder-deep and shaking water from his eyes.

He followed Johnny out into the black waves capped with yellow starlight, splashing around his calves. It wasn’t as warm as during the sun-drenched afternoon, but not too cold either. Mark waded into his hips, and felt marginally less exposed. He huffed a sigh of relief. If anyone else came down the beach now, they just looked like two boys out for a night swim. 

That’s what he thought, until Johnny’s sea-slick arms wrapped around him from behind, lifting Mark up until his feet were barely kicking in the water.

“J-Johnny!” he whisper-shouted, for some reason feeling like it was too dangerous to speak aloud. “Put me down!”

“Don’t think I will,” he drawled into Mark’s ear, none of the same compunctions about volume present in him. His right arm was clamped across Mark’s chest and shoulder, pinning him to his own, but his left settled down near Mark’s tiny waist, covered in goosebumps from being pulled so suddenly out of the ocean into cool night air. Johnny dug his fingers in, tickled Mark until he squirmed so hard he landed in the water with a splash!, feet hitting the hard-packed sand below the surface.

“You’re such a shit, oh my god—”

The admonishment was half-scandalized, half-delighted, and entirely consumed by Johnny’s mouth when he leaned down and sealed his lips over Mark’s.

Mark was helpless to do anything but kiss back, on his tip-toes in the sea, slinging his arms around Johnny’s neck and falling into him for balance. He didn’t care that his mouth was covered in salty water; licked it straight off Johnny’s lips and savored it. He didn’t mind the tiny grains of sand that get on his tongue, always stirred up in the waves and clinging to every inch of skin hit by the water relentlessly – he let the grit crunch between his teeth, relished it. Relished the proof that Johnny wanted him so bad he stripped him down on the beach at midnight and pushed him in the water, kissed him dirty and wet, had those same grains of sand crunching between his own teeth because he was kissing the sea right off Mark, too.

Two large palms cupped just below his ass, gripping his slippery thighs and cradling him close to Johnny, pressing their hips together. Mark was weightless in the water, he knew, but that didn't stop him from running his hands over Johnny’s biceps and admiring their strength, admiring them holding him. He mouthed over Johnny’s jaw, felt wet strands of hair slap against his cheek and stick there.

When he ground his erection against Johnny’s hip under the surface, it was too slippery to get any friction. He just glided along the cut of his hipbone, curved himself ever further into Johnny’s body. His calves hooked around the back of Johnny’s knees, like he was trying to climb inside him, and he frantically rutted with the little leverage he gained. Johnny’s hands jumped up an inch, catching right over the fullness of Mark’s ass and squeezing. He thrusted his own dick, hard and hot against the cool water lapping at their waist, into the crevice of Mark’s thigh.

They didn’t stop kissing the ocean off each other, mouths open and wanting as they panted and let their teeth clack. They rutted into each other’s bodies until they finally spilled their release into the salt water flowing between them, all traces of their orgasm washed away in a moment as the next wave rolled past, swaying Johnny, knees now unsteady but still holding up Mark.

Johnny gently set Mark down, slid his hands up to clasp around his waist, Mark’s body still cradled close to his chest. Mark leaned into him gratefully, rubbing his head on Johnny’s goosebump-covered pecs and enjoying how his cheek slid against the wet skin. He tilted his head up, pressed a kiss to the underside of Johnny’s chin, another to his neck, everywhere he could reach.

When he got home at half-past-two, Mark had to shake out his clothes in the yard before creeping inside, slipping into the shower to scrub salt and tiny flecks of sand off his skin. When he finally crashed down into his mattress, snuggled his cheek into his pillow and hugged another against his abdomen, he smiled. He was exhausted – the sheer rush of doing something so bad, so illegal, so hot with Johnny had coursed adrenaline through his veins that was now leaving him, and he was just bone-tired.

Mark had to get up for work in four and a half hours, but he didn't care. It was the best birthday he’d ever had, and the high of spending time with Johnny was worth any amount of lost sleep. 

🌊 🌊 🌊

johnny: i’m out front

“Bye mom, bye dad, love you!” Mark hugged his parents loosely around the waist, pressing a quick kiss to each of their cheeks. “See you Sunday night! I’ll text you when we get to D.C. safe!”

“Ohh, no you don’t,” his dad snagged a finger in the back collar of Mark’s shirt, pulling him to a halt. “Nice try, mister. Tell Johnny to come in! We want to say hello.”

“Well, really, we gotta get going, you know the traffic around there is always awful…”

“It won’t take long,” his dad smiled knowingly at Mark, no small amount of mischief in the lines of his mouth. “Your mom is waving him in right now.”

Sure enough, Mark’s mother had slipped away and was cheerfully waving at Johnny from the entryway, gesturing for him to come inside. Johnny did so gamely, ambling up the front walk and grinning at Mark’s mom.

“Hi, Mrs. Lee. Mr. Lee. Good to see you again,” he tilted his head a little bit, catching Mark’s eye. “Hey Mark! You ready, dude?”

“Yeah,” Mark said, feeling completely unmoored. “Um… sor–”

“So! Johnny! What are your plans this weekend?” Mark’s mom cut him off shamelessly, smiling brightly up at Johnny. She was a foot shorter than him. She was still scarier.

“We’re taking the interstate right into the capital, and checking in to the hotel. Then we’re gonna grab some dinner and walk over to the concert venue,” Johnny explained casually, smiling softly all the while. “Do some sightseeing Sunday morning, and drive back that afternoon. I’ll have Mark home before ten.”

“What hotel is it?” Mark’s dad asked, looking keenly at Johnny from behind his glasses. “Text me the exact address. Here, give me your phone. I want your number.”

“Sure.”

Johnny passed it over easily and let Mark’s dad slowly put in his contact info, then shot him a quick text once it was handed back.

“I’ll take a screenshot of the reservation and send that to you,” Johnny explained, tapping around for a few more seconds. “There!”

“Thank you,” Mark’s dad squinted down at the small text in the photo, pinching his fingers to zoom in. “Ah, yes. Very good.”

“Take good care of our Mark,” his mom threatened. She was smiling pleasantly, like she was commenting on the fine weather they’d been having lately, or something. Mark shivered. “If anything happens to him… Well. I know your mother.”

“I’ll keep him safe,” Johnny promised solemnly. Mark’s mom arched an eyebrow.

“Good. Although I would hope you do more than just the bare minimum,” she replied, looping her arm around her husband’s waist. “Keep him happy, too.”

“Mom,” Mark hissed, mortified. His face was so red he was worried he was gonna get dizzy from the lack of blood going to his brain.

“What?” she asked innocently. Mark stared at her, mouth agape.

“Well, you boys have fun!” Mark’s dad said cheerfully, slapping both Johnny and Mark on the back. “Better get going! That traffic is downright nasty.”

“Sure will, Mr. Lee,” Johnny said, smiling brightly at Mark’s parents and shaking their hands. He grabbed the duffle that Mark had left forgotten by the doorway, slinging it over his shoulder. “Alright, let’s go, Mark!”

Mark was silent the entire walk to the car. He adjusted the vents so the AC could cool off his face more directly, and didn’t speak until Johnny had slid into the driver’s side and clasped his seatbelt.

“I am. So. Sorry,” Mark apologized, absolutely mortified by his parent’s intervention. He tried to sink back into the seat, wishing he could simply cease to exist.

“It’s all good,” Johnny waved off his apology blasély. Mark buried his face in his arms, tucking his knees up so he could be a tight ball in the passenger seat. Like a roly-poly. He barely even registered Johnny pulling away from the curb and starting off down the street.

“No, seriously, dude, I’m so sorry. They shouldn’t have done that–”

"No, seriously, Mark," Johnny laughed, looking at him fondly from the corner of his eye. "It's chill. I get it."

"Are you sure–"

"Really, it's cool," Johnny repeated, sliding his sunglasses down from his hair to the bridge of his nose. "I mean, I'm literally taking their youngest son overnight to stay in a hotel across state lines. It makes sense that they'd want to talk to me. And they've been cool about you staying over whenever all summer, so. I owed them a bit."

Mark rubbed his lips together.

"Yeah, I mean, I guess – They've always just kind of let me do what I want, you know? I've never gotten into any trouble, so they trust me to make good choices. And my older brother was the same, so," Mark shrugged, resisting the urge to pull his phone out of his shorts pocket just to have something to fiddle with. “I wasn’t expecting them to butt in now, I guess.”

"So you always stay out of trouble, huh? You’re the good boy?" Johnny teased him, shooting him a quick grin. Mark fought not to blush.

"Yep," he coughed, staring straight ahead out the windshield. "No trouble for me."

As they passed the city limits, Mark couldn't help but think, I've never gotten myself into any trouble.

Until you.

… 

Mark tried not to think about what the receptionist thought about him and Johnny, together, as the older boy checked them in. He did it with the confidence of someone who'd checked into hotels a hundred times before, not like Mark – who would've been a nervous wreck, feeling like an imposter trying to fit into adult-shaped shoes. Mark wondered, as the receptionist's nails clack on her keyboard, if she thought he was Johnny's little brother. He probably looked like it, bobbing along in Johnny's wake. He probably didn't look like he could be Johnny's boyfriend. Too short, and too young, and too average –

"Hey, gimme your bag."

Johnny's hand was already outstretched. Mark blinked twice, and furrowed his brow in confusion, but willingly let his duffel slide off his arm and onto Johnny's. The elder passed him the envelope with the room keys and hefted one overnight bag on each shoulder. Mark trailed after him to the elevators.

"We're 302," Johnny informed him, nodding at the elevator buttons. Mark jabbed the button, and snuck a glance at Johnny.

"Thanks for carrying my bag? But like, dude, you didn't have to, I was really totally fine–"

"I know," Johnny interrupted him, stepping out of the elevator into a nondescript hallway, lined with that kind of corporate-abstract carpeting that made Mark want to wince. Johnny looked down, shot him a cheeky grin. "But the birthday boy shouldn't have to carry his own bags, Mark!"

Mark fought back a blush as he keyed open the door to 302.

"Man, it isn't even my birthday, anymore," he mumbled. But he was secretly pleased as he shouldered open the heavy door, holding it for Johnny and the bulk of both duffels.

It was... a hotel room. That was for sure. Beige walls, gray carpet, tan curtains, white bedspread over a king-sized mattress. Which, actually–

"Yo!" Mark exclaimed, flopping backwards onto the bed. He bounced slightly, and grinned up at the ceiling in delight. "This thing is fucking huge. I've never slept on a king-sized bed before, damn."

"You're in for a treat," Johnny said, lifting both their duffels onto the suitcase rack, nestling them beside each other. "And I can move far enough away that you won't kick my shins all night, you little devil."

"Sorry," Mark said sheepishly, trying to fight the burn of shame threatening to turn him red head to toe. Donghyuck had complained about his sleep-kicking when they were kids shoving their sleeping bags way too close together on the living room floor, but Mark thought he had outgrown the habit. Apparently not. Apparently, all those nights he'd slept over Johnny's and been told it was ‘ no big deal’, he'd been kicking the poor dude. Mark sat up and rolled out his neck, resisting the mortification that was trying to freeze up his whole body.

"I don't mind.”

Mark let his knees rest out straight for several long moments. Johnny didn’t join him on the bed. Mark propped himself up on his elbows, watched Johnny carefully take out his toiletries and arrange them around the room. Johnny looked up at him in question a few times, feeling the intense stare, but Mark didn’t say anything. Not yet.

As embarrassing as his parent’s attempt at a shovel talk had been, it had put an idea into Mark’s head. A thought he’d been chewing on for weeks, really; sparked on further by his friend’s reactions at his birthday party, by his parents’ perceptions. 

Why weren’t he and Johnny dating? Back in the first week of June, friends with benefits had made perfect sense. They were on the line between friends and acquaintances, spent no time together outside of work. And then outside of work and sex. But now…

Mark couldn’t pinpoint when, but things had changed. He’d spent more of his summer with Johnny than anyone else. And not just hooking up, or working. They did shit together. Constantly. The last time Mark had gone over to his house, they’d watched Avatar: The Last Airbender for two hours then Johnny dropped him off back at home with a good night kiss. They didn’t even exchange handjobs! That fit, like, 90% of the criteria for a date, Mark was pretty sure.

Mark slid himself to the edge of the bed and considered Johnny.

“Could we talk?”

“Now?” Johnny furrowed his eyebrows, setting down the charger that he’d had in his hands. He stared at Mark for a moment. Mark nodded. “Um… sure.”

Okay, so maybe having the “what are we?” talk right before this concert wasn’t a great idea. But it was too late now. Mark was like that with a lot of things, actually. Hesitant to dip his toes in the water, but once he was in – he was all in.

Mark stood. He didn’t want to be looking up at Johnny for this conversation.

“Johnny, I looked up how much floor tickets for this show cost,” Mark said quietly. He didn’t look away from Johnny’s eyes though, determined to look directly at him when he said this. For once, Johnny was the one trying to avoid his gaze, fidgeting with his clothes, eyes darting to the beige walls like they could possibly hold anything interesting. “And this hotel. There’s no way this cost you less than four hundred dollars.”

“So?” Johnny swallowed, crossing his arms defensively. Mark huffed out a breath, nearly a laugh.

“So, I know you don’t have money like that. I’m not saying you’re broke, don’t give me that look! But your parents aren’t millionaires like Chenle’s, Johnny. You had to save for this, probably give up some things to pull it off.”

Mark wasn’t backing down. He had never confronted Johny before about anything. He set his jaw stubbornly. He wasn’t gonna wimp out of this conversation now, no matter how agitated Johnny was starting to look.

“Why are you asking me this?” Johnny asked, frustrated. “Can’t you just say thank you like a normal person? Can’t we just go enjoy the show?”

“Thank you, Johnny,” Mark said, only half-sarcastic. “And I’m gonna have a fucking blast at the show. If you wanna pretend like you don’t understand what I’m saying, that’s fine. I’ll spell it out for you. You don’t spend nearly four hundred on just a friend’s birthday present.”

“Well, I did.”

“Just a super generous guy, are you?” Mark snorted. Johnny’s jaw twitched.

“Yeah, I am,” he tilted his head challengingly. Mark rolled his eyes.

“For a nineteenth birthday? Dude, it isn’t even a landmark one or anything. Pick a better cover, if you’re gonna front with me.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to be honest with me, Johnny,” Mark said, exasperated. “Really honest. You freaked out when I made out with Jungwoo – don’t look at me like that, you literally used me like a goddamn chew toy that night.”

Johnny had the decency to look a little sheepish at that, at least.

“And all summer, it’s only been – I mean, you know exactly what I’ve gotten up to, this summer,” Mark lost a bit of steam. He didn’t want to flat out say the only person I’ve hooked up with besides you was when I hooked up with Yuta with you.

Johnny was gracious enough to let Mark talk around it.

“Okay. Good. Well, you know exactly what I’ve gotten up to this summer, too.”

Mark’s breath left him in a whoosh of relief, tension he didn’t even know he’d been carrying in his body escaping him. He hadn’t realized how worried he’d been that Johnny might have fucked other people until right now, when Johnny stood here and told him he hadn’t. That it had just been Mark, all summer. Mark and Yuta, that one time. Okay. Good.

Johnny was happy that Mark hadn’t fucked anyone else, either. He let hope fill him, flood him with confidence he didn’t know he could possess in front of Johnny.

“We don’t have to – call it anything different, or whatever. But do you wanna be exclusive?” The last question sounded more like a statement, in Mark’s ears. All the better.

“I – I. Yeah. Exclusive would be good,” Johnny spoke quietly, and he glanced down at the floor before finishing his sentence. When his eyes met Mark’s, they were burning.

“Cool,” Mark nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets. “So… we gonna get dinner, or what?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. There's a Vietnamese place down on the Wharf, right near The Anthem. We'll walk over when we're done.”

"Sick," Mark nodded again and shoved his feet back into his sneakers, making sure he tucked one room key into his wallet while offering the other to Johnny. "I'm fucking starving, bro."

Maybe he’d taken a little bit of a cop out there, at the end. But still. Mark felt himself walking taller, shoulders straighter than ever. He smiled at the receptionist as they passed her on the way out.

Exclusive. He and Johnny were exclusive. It was more than cool.

It felt dangerously close to love.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Mark's frantic cramming of the band's material had paid off. He sent a silent little prayer of thanks up to God as he shouted the lyrics along with the crowd, blending in with the other fans packed onto the floor with ease.

"Why can't we be friends? When we are lovers? 'Cause it always ends, with us hating each other..."

Johnny's arm was wrapped tight around Mark's shoulder, swaying with him in time with the lazy beat. Mark wrapped his hand around Johnny's hip, not even minding how their shirts were sticking together with sweat; too entranced by the feeling of an entire crowd singing the same words, sharing the same energy, immersed in the same vibe.

Mark loved this song. He loved it, and he hoped he never lived it. Because he and Johnny were friends now, for real. And Mark was more than halfway in love with him.

He didn’t want this to end with them hating each other. He didn’t want this to end at all.

The sharp guitar riff for the next song kicked in, and Mark tightened his hand on Johnny’s hip. Then he opened his mouth, and sang along.

… 

The Garden Inn felt even more nondescript, average and dull, after the thrill of live music and lights and amps turned up so loud Mark’s ears were still ringing. There were no proper lights in the room, just the lamps next to the bed and the armchair, and the switch in the bathroom that painted the whole room a wan yellow. They kept them all on as they readied for bed, moving around each other with quiet ease.

Mark was practically shaking in the shower (awful water pressure) with the knowledge that Johnny was right there, barely three feet away; just brushing his teeth. He didn't know if it was from anticipation, or post-concert high, or the illusion of domesticity. He didn't want to know, just scrubbed his skin clean of his own sweat and everyone else's who'd been packed in on the floor with them.

Johnny took second shower, letting Mark curl up on the pillows closest to the nightstand and scroll through instagram and snapchat with his phone plugged in to charge. He was rewatching a video he'd posted to his story, the band members looking far smaller and more overexposed than they had in life on his screen, when Johnny came out. Mark locked his phone and set it on the table, trying not to make it too obvious how his eyes were running up Johnny's muscular legs, left on display by his short boxers, and bare abdomen and chest. Johnny's eyes caught Mark's knowingly by the time his heated gaze reached his face, though, and Mark chewed his lower lip. Caught.

"There's a mirror in here," Johnny noted. Mark nodded slowly, eyeing how Johnny was backlit with the sickly, weak light from the bathroom.

"Yes," Mark drawled, eyes darting to the mirrored closet in the small hallway leading from the door to the bed.

"We've never fucked in front of a mirror before," Johnny remarked. Mark eyed him suspiciously.

"That is true," he agreed cautiously. "What are you trying to sa–"

"So we should do it tonight," Johnny took in Mark's unimpressed face and didn't falter, popping his hip out and leaning against the wall. "I want you to see how good you look when you're getting fucked, baby."

"Johnny. John. John Suh."

"Yes, Mark Lee?" Johnny's tone was perfectly pleasant, an eyebrow quirked. Mark's mouth fell open. He forced himself to close it, and inhaled deeply through his nose.

"We are not fucking in front of the mirror, Johnny. I'm not sure why you're under the impression that I will be able to stand while you rail me–"

"What – I fuck you so good your knees give out?" Johnny snorted. Mark seized the opportunity, reclining back further on the pillows and giving Johnny his best, widest bedroom eyes.

"Yeah," he breathed, with a flutter of his lashes. "Yeah, you know I get stupid every time you fuck me, Johnny. Can't even think straight, let alone stand up straight. You hit it too good."

"Very nice," Johnny granted him, smiling sardonically. He crawled onto the bed, leaning over Mark, creating a cage out of his body and the curtain of his wet hair, hanging in clumps and dripping cold on Mark's skin. Mark smiled up at him, thinking he'd gotten his way, only for Johnny to dash his hopes with his next words. "But it's not gonna work, sweetheart. You're gonna watch yourself get fucked in that mirror, even if you get rugburn on your knees. But don't worry, I'm strong enough to hold you up. Isn't that right, Markie? Don't you like it when I pick you up?"

Mark whined, closing his eyes against the accusations and ignoring the way his dick twitched in his boxers. Traitor.

"Come on," Johnny murmured into Mark's mouth, letting their lips brush together as he spoke. Mark was nearly dizzy from looking into Johnny's eyes with their faces so close together. "I'll prep you up here, Markie, you won't even have to stand up too long. I bet I'm not gonna last, you know? Watching how it looks when I fuck you... I'm gonna blow my load so fast, baby."

"Johnny."  

Mark whimpered, but he was already leaning up to claim Johnny's mouth in a proper kiss, licking into his mouth too fast. He still thought it was a dumb idea, and he was gonna do something stupid like fall over and break his arm, but the way Johnny was talking about it lit up every one of his nerve endings. He wrapped his legs around Johnny's waist, pulled him down so they could grind their cocks together, getting the fabric of their boxers sticky and gross.

Johnny had to detach himself from Mark's mouth to grab the lube and condom out of the front pocket of his duffel, rolling his eyes at Mark's petulant whine. He stopped in his tracks when he turned around, though, to the sight of Mark shucking off his underwear and spreading his legs wide, knees drawn up. Johnny's tongue poked out to wet his lower lip, and he blinked a few times, eyes fixed on Mark's body.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, throwing the shit on the bed with enough force that the bottle of lube bounced against Mark's side, "you have no idea how hot you are. No idea."

"That's why you wanna fuck me in front of that mirror, huh? Want me to see how good I look?" Mark teased, unsure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Maybe from the soft kiss Johnny pressed to his inner thigh when Mark gasped at the cold lube pressed against his entrance. Maybe from the slow way Johnny was opening him up, like they had all the time in the world. Tonight... tonight, maybe, they did.

"You can be loud, Mark-ah," Johnny told him, looking up at him from under hooded lids as he pressed a third finger inside Mark and tongued just below the head of his cock. "No one's gonna hear you."

"Neighbors–" Mark tried to choke out, only to be silenced by Johnny rubbing firmly over his prostate and sucking his dick into his wet, warm, perfect fucking mouth.

"Johnny," he practically wailed, any concern for their hotel-mates out the window as pure heat sparked up his spine. He squirmed against the comforter, planting his feet in the fluffy squish of it and trying so hard not to fuck up into Johnny's mouth, choke him on his cock. "Johnny, come on, put your dick in me – I'm ready, I'm ready, please."

"Okay, okay," Johnny was already panting when he pulled off Mark's dick and sat up at the edge of the bed, ripping the condom packet open with his teeth. Mark stared at his dick, red and curved up against his belly and glistening with precum, shining oddly in the lamp light. "Get– Go over– Just... go stand by the mirror."

Mark stood up on wobbly legs, wincing as his hip popped. He didn't know how he was going to support himself through this, actually. He might have to just surrender himself to getting awful rugburn on his hands and knees.

Mark lingered over by the mirrored closet doors, looking at Johnny's reflection behind him to avoid looking at himself. He had never seen Johnny stare at his ass like that, and being able to see the gaze that he usually only sensed at his back, burning him... okay, maybe Mark could admit to some merits of fucking with mirrors. He watched Johnny pinch the tip of the condom and give his dick a few light strokes, wetting his mouth as he kept gawking unashamedly at Mark.

Johnny's cock bobbed heavy between his legs as he finally got up and prowled over to Mark. It didn't even look comical, like it should have. It just made Mark's throat go dry.

He flicked his eyes up as Johnny came to a stop behind him, met his eyes in the reflection. Johnny loomed over him, large fingers curling over Mark's hipbones and pulling him back into his body. Mark let himself slump slightly against Johnny's chest, lolled his head back on his shoulder and watched how completely Johnny surrounded him. His heart rate was increasing, rabbit-fast in his chest, and he couldn't stop staring at them.

Johnny’s dick was bumping against the small of his back, the swell of his ass, and Mark rutted lazily back against him, eyes only half-open in the reflection. He looked…  he looked kind of good like this. Mark had never seen himself when he was turned on and about to be fucked stupid. It actually did look kind of good on him though; the red marks on the column of his neck and the cut of his hips, his kiss-swollen mouth, dark eyes, Johnny’s hands curling possessively around his waist, hips, thighs.

“Put your hands on the mirror,” Johnny instructed, voice hoarse. One of his hands released Mark to hold his dick, push the tip against Mark’s hole. Mark said a quick prayer in apology for the handprints he’d be leaving on this mirror for the overworked cleaning staff, then laid his sweaty palms down flat.

The first push of Johnny’s cock into him made him drop his head down, hanging low between his shoulders. Johnny had to bend his knees slightly to fuck up into Mark, but it just seemed to give him better leverage. Or maybe he was as worked up as Mark was, because he didn’t ease into it at all. He just pounded into him relentlessly, punching gasps out of Mark faster than he could suck air in and grunting every time his hips slapped Mark’s ass. He was going to be bright red by the time they were done; it was going to kill to sit in the car for six hours tomorrow. Mark couldn’t wait.

Mark couldn’t keep his head up, just watched his neglected cock slap against his own tummy in the mirror as Johnny fucked into him. And then Johnny gripped his hair close to his scalp and yanked Mark’s head up. He was nose-to-nose with his reflection, his hiss of pain fogging up the glass.

“Watch,” Johnny ordered, and he sounded as strangled as Mark felt. “Watch yourself take my cock. Fuck , Mark. You take it so good, baby.”

“Fuck,” Mark whined, biting his own forearm when Johnny canted his hips forward slightly, started nailing his prostate dead-on. “S-so good, Johnny, so good.”

“You gonna cry?” Johnny asked, and it would’ve sounded mean if it weren’t so breathless. If Johnny wasn’t staring at their reflections slack-jawed, same as Mark. “You gonna watch yourself cry because I’m fucking you so hard?”

“Johnny,” Mark gasped, curling his fingers against the glass and nearly slipping, getting no traction. Johnny was not letting up, and Mark’s legs were quivering with the effort of keeping him upright. “Johnny, I’m gonna – I, I can’t stand, I need–”

“I know what you need,” Johnny growled, and he wrapped one corded forearm around Mark’s waist. His other hand released Mark’s head, leaving his face to smack against the mirror, only to clench his hip in a bruising grip. “I’ll hold you up baby. I got you.”

He did have him. Mark was practically up on fucking tiptoe, Johnny was holding him so tight, wrapping him up in his arms so good. He was being held up, back to Johnny’s heaving chest, smothered by the elder in all the best ways. The force of Johnny’s thrusts had inched them closer and closer to the mirror, too close for Mark to watch anymore. All he could do was let the side of his face smush against the mirror, smear it with sweat and his hot breath.

Johnny’s hands were big enough to span most of his abdomen, he knew, but Mark was still shocked when Johnny readjusted the arm around his waist slightly to get at Mark’s nipple. A positively humiliating sound escaped him when Johnny scraped the edge of his thumbnail over the peak, tweaked the bud firmly. Mark let go of the mirror with one hand – didn’t even move, because Johnny really was the sole thing holding him up at this point – and covered Johnny’s larger hand with his own. He didn’t know if he was trying to move it away or make Johnny handle him rougher.

“Play with your cock, baby,” Johnny panted hot on the helix of Mark’s ear. “‘M so close, you jack yourself off.”

Mark whimpered and snaked his hand down between his legs, fisting over the head of his dick. The tip was wet with precum, had smeared it on the mirror when Johnny’s thrusts had lurched him too far forward. 

“Mark–” Johnny warned, voice choked up. “Coming–”

His brutal pace went erratic, then slowed, his hips stuttering against Mark’s ass. He stayed buried inside him like he usually did when he came inside Mark, like he couldn’t bear to leave the tight heat once he started spilling. Like he wanted to fuck his cum as far into Mark’s hole as he could, plug it up inside him so none leaked out. It couldn’t happen because of the condom – the goddamn condom, that they had to use because this was not a relationship damnit – but the fantasy alone was enough to tip Mark over the edge, spurting hot pulses of cum into his own fist. He came hard enough that some ropes still ended up hitting the mirror, even as he tried to cup the head of his dick best he could.

Johnny had started softening by the time he shuffled back slightly and tilted his hips to slip out, making Mark scrunch his nose at the sudden emptiness.

“Cute,” Johnny chuckled quietly, leaned forward and pecked the edge of Mark’s cheekbone. “So cute, when you do that.”

“Dude,” Mark said in a wavering voice, cum-coated hand coming up to slap against the mirror once more as Johnny stepped back. His legs were actually wobbling, now, proper shaking. “Dude, Johnny, you gotta hold me up still, I can’t–”

“Oh shit.”

Johnny caught him just before Mark went down, and lifted him up beneath the armpits to actually, literally carry him into the bathroom. He was deposited gently into the tub, and Johnny detached the shower head and held it out of the way as the water warmed up.

Mark tugged at Johnny’s hand until the older boy climbed into the tub with him, slotted in behind him. His knees were pulled up because really this tub was way too small to accommodate Johnny’s height, but the elder didn’t complain, just lathered up the bar of soap between his hands and sudsed Mark down. Mark let a content sigh escape him as he nestled further into Johnny’s slick chest, warm from bathwater and not sweat, now.

A thought crossed his mind, made his face scrunch up again.

“Dude,” Mark blinked his eyes open, and he tilted his head backwards to look Johnny in the face. Mild horror was overtaking Mark’s expression now, and Johnny met the look with confusion. “We have got to clean that mirror before we leave. For real.”

Johnny burst into laughter, his entire body shaking behind Mark’s, jostling him and nearly spilling the water over the edges.

“Of course, baby, I’ll clean it up. Let’s get out now. The night is still young.”

“It’s 1:30 a.m.,” Mark said blankly, even as he allowed Johnny to tug him up by the wrists and wrap him in a towel.

“Yeah, and that bed is a king-size. I’m not done with you yet, Mark.”

🌊 🌊 🌊

“I love that we have such similar tastes in music,” Johnny remarked, obligingly turning up the stereo volume upon Mark’s request. “We’re, like, perfect road trip buddies, dude.”

It’s like a mirror of what he was doing two weeks back with Donghyuck – they’re driving south on the interstate back home this time, not north. And with Donghyuck, Mark wasn’t gnawing his knuckles to keep them from digging into the driver’s thigh, from feeling him up as the speedometer hit 90.

But it’s the same corridor of trees, blackest black silhouette on a starry sky, and music blasting a bit louder than it should be. Johnny was also an obsessive car-playlist curator: the way up had been “the 1975 and associated vibes”, the way back... Well, Mark hadn’t exactly sussed out what the theme for this one was yet. And the custom playlist art Johnny had chosen of what looked to be a 25-yard long pool, edited a tasteful black and white, was also not giving him any clues. But he was gonna try! And in the meantime, the playlist just kept turning up straight bops.

“And I bet you never had it like this, real good loving light up your wrist,” Johnny sang along, bopping his head slightly to the sliding, easy beat. Mark couldn’t help staring at his face, the way the dashboard lights illuminated it in strange ways, casting unusual shadows and making his eyebrows shine faintly blue. He looked like something had dreamed up. Like Mark was living out a teen crush movie montage, one where he was the main character.

Johnny turned his head the slightest bit, caught Mark’s eye with a grin. His right hand lifted off the steering wheel to point at his passenger, sparking up a laugh in his chest.

“Last call, are you coming with me? I got some things you wanna see. Tell all your friends that you’re busy – they know!” Mark gamely sang along with Johnny for the next lines, and the next, and the rest of the song, until they reached the final notes and were practically screaming with it.

It might have been horribly, unbearably cheesy, but Mark couldn’t help it. He gazed up through the windshield at the stars twinkling hauntingly in the clear sky, and sent up a desperate wish, a wild prayer. He never wanted this moment to end. He wanted it to stretch out past the boundaries of linear space and time, to last forever. He wanted to sing Highway to Heaven and gaze across the console at Johnny and put his hand on his upper thigh in this dark car and drive down the interstate into eternity, never, ever, letting go.

🌊 🌊 🌊  

On Wednesday, Johnny and Mark's lunch breaks lined up. It was fucking hot, so Johnny drove them down to the corner store to grab ice cream and some other snacks.

"Yoo!" Mark exclaimed, coming to a halt in front of a spinning display of sunglasses. An entire side was lined with some of the weirdest designs he'd ever seen: red lenses in thick black frames, bright yellow surrounded by black in a goggle shape, and arguably the weirdest of all – angular neon yellow frameless specs. Or maybe neon green? Some type of chartreuse? Mark couldn't pin the exact color, but it was fucking wild. The sharp curves of the corners seemed vaguely sinister.

There were fucking sick. Mark grabbed them immediately and slid them up his nose.

"Ayy," he turned around, giving Johnny double finger guns and a wide grin. "How am I looking?"

"Awful," Johnny laughed, pretending to cover his eyes with his hand. "Hideous. Those are horrendous, Mark, take them off."

"Aw, really?" Mark pursed his lips in an exaggerated fashion, giving Johnny his best supermodel pout.

"Mark, oh my god," Johnny tried to sound exasperated, but he clearly found the glasses just as hilarious as Mark did.

Mark turned to admire himself in the small mirror glued to the display, tilting his face side to side.

"I don't know, I kind of like them. They suit me, don't you think–"

Johnny's hand on his shoulder spun Mark back around. He was much closer than Mark had anticipated, their noses only an inch apart. Slowly, Johnny raised his hands and grasped the edges of the glasses, sliding them from Mark's face. He tucked them back on the rack, then threaded his fingers through the back of Mark's hair. Johnny pressed a firm, but chaste, kiss to his mouth, and Mark could feel his lips twitching up into a smile.

"Get the ice cream, Mark," Johnny pulled back and said, like a total tease. Mark could only nod, dazed, and tripped over his own feet walking to the back of the store.

Johnny hadn't kissed him in public, in front of other people, for nearly two months. Not since that very first time, in Claudette's parking lot.

Rummaging through the freezer, Mark pulled out a Good Humor strawberry shortcake bar for himself, and a Drumstick for Johnny.

Back at the till, Johnny had already gotten their other snacks rung up and bagged, so Mark just passed over the ice cream to be scanned quickly. Johnny gave the cashier a twenty and tucked the change back in his wallet, slinging the bag over his arm and handing off the ice cream bar back to Mark. They ate those first before they could melt, leaning against the Crosstrek in the parking lot like they had at Claudette's so many times this summer.

When they were finished, Mark took both the crumpled wrappers in his hand to chuck in the trash bin by the store entrance. Before he walked off, he hesitated, eyeing Johnny with some trepidation. He took a breath.

Going up on his toes, Mark pressed a kiss to Johnny's mouth. Johnny hummed lazily and pulled Mark in by the waist, kissing him two, three more times. The plastic bag hit against Mark's hip, crackling loudly. By the time Mark pulled away, he was breathless, and his tongue tasted like chocolate.

"Throw that out quickly, we gotta get back," Johnny told him, patting Mark on the butt and climbing into the car, turning the key to get the AC going. Mark jogged to the trash can and back, sweat dripping down his back from the slight exertion by the time he hopped in the passenger side.

When they got back to work, Johnny immediately had to go sit chair for Jaemin, who needed to pee. Conveniently, Jaemin always needed to pee when he was sitting on chair one. Mark rolled his eyes at his friend as Jaemin strolled past at a leisurely pace, clearly in no rush to finish his bathroom break. Jaemin waved at him blithely, yawning widely before he disappeared into the locker room.

Mark shook his head, and upturned the bag from the corner store, emptying it onto the table. He pawed through and plucked out his snacks, then shoved the remainder back in. His hand brushed against something strange, though. Mark knocked a bag of Doritos aside and revealed the angular neon sunglasses, lying in wait for Mark to discover. The sunglasses Johnny had called "hideous", which he must have snuck up to the till when Mark wasn't looking.

Mark smiled as he picked them up and turned them in his hands, examining them from all angles. He slipped them in the side pocket of his swim trunks to hide away in his bag later.

He would have to think of some way to repay Johnny for the gift.

(Johnny seemed to think cumming on Mark's face that evening was a more than fair trade. Although... the way he choked on Mark's cock right after might have tipped the scales again. But by then, Mark was too tired to think about making things even.)

🌊 🌊 🌊  

By the time the summer swim team championships came about, Mark was more than ready. He was going to savor not having to be at the pool by 8 a.m. anymore, even if he had to sacrifice an entire Sunday for the event. Mark didn’t really mind, though. The energy of the competition was invigorating him, the kid's excitement spreading easily to everyone around. Also, not having to drive an hour to get to a different pool drastically helped Mark’s mood.

“You’ve all done great this season,” Mark told the huddle of swimmers. They made for an impressive swarm, all in their matching suits with goggles hanging between their fingers, hair pulled back, jostling shoulders with their friends. Mark smiled.

They looked just like him and Donghyuck and Jaemin and Jeno had for years, brimming with nervous energy for the races and full to bursting with how excited they were. He swept an eye over two thirteen-year-olds who were definitely whispering behind their hands about what inappropriate thing they should shout during the chant. Mark narrowed his eyes at them, but they just folded their hands behind their backs and gave him angelic grins.

“We’ve had a lot of fun coaching you, and we’re really proud of all the improvements you guys have made this summer. We got multiple personal best times at every meet! You guys rock! We are literally the best team here!” Yeri continued, hyping up the kids.

“And championships came home this year, so you know what that means?” Mark grinned at the loud cheer they gave him in response. “Yeah! We’re gonna show them how it’s done! We’re gonna get first place on our home turf!”

“If we don’t get first place I’m gonna kill someone,” one of the fifteen-year-olds said, shooting a warning glare over the group. Personally, Mark agreed a bit, but outwardly he clapped his hands.

“O -kay! Moving on! The heat sheets are taped to the fence right back there. Go check it before you come and ask me or Yeri a question about what event you’re in, or what lane you are. Seriously. Check it first,” Mark took off his sunglasses so that the kids could see his deadpan expression. 

“Alright! Home team, we’re gonna start the cheering,” Yeri announced, raising her fists above her head. “You already know what it is! DOWN BY THE RIVER!!!”

By the time the call-and-response finished, Mark had screamed himself hoarse, and half the team was bouncing on their toes with the kind of fun competitive energy kids possessed in scores.

The day was a blur of stress: Mark running around with his clipboard, making sure his swimmers were in the right place, talking to officials, adjusting goggle straps, snapping on swim caps, greeting parents, cheering on the swimmers in the water with enthusiastic gestures from the side of the pool. He was ready to drop by lunch, and they still had finals in the afternoon.

“Hey.”

The voice startled Mark, who had been eating a hamburger with the kind of single-minded ferociousness reserved for the really hungry. He whipped his head around and blinked. He knew who that voice belonged to, but still – it was a surprise to see Johnny standing there.

“Dude, what – Johnny, you don’t work today! What are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t come out to support my pool’s team?” Johnny grinned down at Mark, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I need to see how you and Yeri are taking up the mantle, Markie-Mark. This was my team for years, after all.”

“They’re better this summer than any of your teams ever were,” Yeri informed Johnny, having also turned around when she heard his voice. She raised an eyebrow challengingly. “And I say that having been on your team with Mark for three years.”

“Yeah, sorry Johnny,” Mark backed her up, shrugging and giving Johnny a playful smirk. “We’re just better coaches than you. What can I say.”

“Okay, big-shots,” Johnny snorted, pushing at Mark’s shoulder until he scooted over enough to make room for Johnny to slide onto the bench beside him. “Let’s wait until the results are in, then we’ll see.”

“We’re gonna come in first,” Yeri said with complete confidence. Privately, Mark agreed. Not to be arrogant, but he and Yeri were fucking awesome coaches. And they had a really good crop of swimmers this summer. Judging off how the morning qualifiers had gone… they had a good chance at the team gold.

There wasn’t really a good place to have a private word with Johnny, not when the facility was packed with seven swim teams and associated parents. But leaning up against the fence after Mark finished eating, bodies turned into each other, it nearly felt intimate. Like it was just the two of them. The small smile Johnny granted Mark fed into the illusion of their own private bubble.

“I didn’t really come to see the team,” Johnny confessed quietly, touching Mark’s wrist. It was a glancing touch; something who happened to spot them would even register. It still made Mark blush. “I came to see you.”

“O – oh. Oh, um. Wow. That’s – thank you, Johnny, for coming,” Mark finally managed to say. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, that suddenly wanted to twist up the fabric of his shirt. He settled for shoving them in the pockets of his swim trunks. “It means a lot to have you here supporting me. More than you know.”

“I mean,” Johnny’s eyes glinted playfully, grinning crookedly down at Mark. “I think I have some idea.”

“No, seriously dude,” Mark felt the sudden urge to be honest – to be transparent. To let Johnny see the dorky, obsessive, uncool side of him he’d been trying to hide all summer. “It means the world. You were like… I idolized you, when you coached us. I thought you were literally the coolest person alive. I remembered every single critique you gave me like it was gospel. Johnny, you were – I had such a crush on you. You were literally, like, my gay awakening.”

“Mark,” Johnny said softly, inching in closer. The edge of his flip-flops knocked against Mark’s. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah,” Mark coughed and gripped the back of his neck awkwardly, taking a step back. 

There was a family of five not three feet away from them, the parents fussing over the children eating enough for lunch. Two of Mark’s own swimmers were hardly any further away, gossiping next to the diving blocks. Hopefully not gossiping about Mark and Johnny. 

The bubble of intimacy Mark had constructed in his head burst, and now he just felt embarrassed. Who tells someone they had a crush on them for years, that they were the reason Mark discovered his sexuality, at 1 p.m. in broad daylight around a couple hundred people? Who does that?

Johnny didn’t seem too bothered by it, at least. He was staring at Mark intensely, something unreadable in his eye.

“I knew, you know,” he said eventually. Mark snapped his head up. What? His confusion must have been evident, because Johnny elaborated. “I knew you had a crush on me, Mark. You weren’t exactly subtle. Thirteen-year-olds never are, to be honest.”

Mark wanted to fucking die. He wanted to crawl under the buffet tables holding lunch and curl up in a ball and never be seen again. All this time, Johnny had known? 

“Mark, it never fazed me. Like, not to sound awful or anything, but half the team had a crush on me. And the other half had a crush on Lisa,” Johnny said with a little laugh. Mark wanted to melt into a puddle and evaporate into the August heat. “Just like half the team has a crush on you now, and the other half on Yeri. It just happens.”

“What?” Mark managed to choke out, after a moment of feeling like a ball of cotton had been shoved down his throat. “What are you talking about?”

“Dude,” Johnny said, looking at Mark funny. “Didn’t you notice? Like, half the team has a major crush on you.”

“No they don’t.”

“Uh, yes, they do,” Johnny countered, pressing a hand to his mouth in a vain attempt to hide his smile. “Mark. You’re an attractive dude who’s slightly older than them and gives them praise and encouragement and attention. And you walk around without a shirt most of the time. Of course they’re in love with you.”

“I don’t think – I mean,” Mark scrambled to find words. “I mean, some of them look up to me, I guess? But, Johnny, I’m not like – I’m not like you.”

“You don’t even know how hot you are. It’s devastating,” Johnny sighed dramatically, laying his hand over his heart. “Boy next door charm personified, and he thinks the preteens don’t have a crush on him. Unbelievable.”

“Johnny,” Mark growled, growing a bit annoyed. “This wasn’t what we were talking about.”

“Yeah, it was,” Johnny looked at him, a glint in his eye. “Mark, you having a crush on me as a kid, it doesn’t – it doesn’t like, make me think less of you. It’s not embarrassing. I told you you weren’t the only one because I thought it would make you feel better. If it didn’t, I’m sorry. But I always thought it was sweet.”

Johnny sounded like he was talking about a puppy. Mark supposed, reminiscing on his past self from the ages of 12 to 15, that wasn’t entirely inaccurate. And still, every word felt like a needle poking into his skin. But Johnny wasn’t done.

“One day, one of these kids might run into you, and tell you they were the reason they realized they weren’t straight,” Johnny told him, dead serious. “And it’s gonna warm your heart, Mark. For real. It means so much that you told me this. I’m sorry if I didn’t say that right away. I wanna hug you so bad right now.”

“Okay,” Mark sighed, eyes on the concrete. It was better just to concede this fight now. “Okay, sure. Thanks, Johnny.”

“Mark–”

“I gotta go coach,” Mark interrupted him, already walking away. “Lunch hour’s over.”

…

Their team got the gold. Mark slapped high-fives until his palms went numb, took a million pictures, hoisted seven-year-olds on his shoulders and cheered happily with them.

He didn’t see Johnny again. Mark didn’t even realize he’d been searching the crowd for him, scanning for a tall figure and chin-length hair, until Yeri had asked him quietly who he was looking for.

“No one,” he lied. He determinedly kept his eyes on his swimmers, his championship-winning team, for the rest of the celebration, even as it went well into the evening. Occasionally, he’d catch his eyes drifting to the edges, to the fence, and Mark had to snap his gaze back forward.

Nothing had changed. Mark was still always looking for Johnny. And Johnny wasn’t looking back.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Monday and Tuesday were quiet at the pool. The swim team members were taking advantage of being free from practice to spend time elsewhere, and a new session of camp had started up. The rest of the summer was going to be quiet, too. Mark wouldn’t be there for closing day, though. His flight out to LA was Sunday morning.

Mark commandeered one of the many empty pool chairs for himself when he came off chair two and went on break. He grabbed his phone and towel to spread over the chair, and chose one with decent shade coverage. He checked his snapchat, then methodically went through his other social medias, until a shadow over him disturbed him. Mark squinted up.

Sungchan was hovering a couple feet from the chair, looking somewhat hesitant. Mark couldn’t figure out why, but just shrugged, smiling at him.

“Sup, dude?” Mark greeted the younger boy, straining his neck to look up at him. Jesus, the kid was tall. He patted the end of his lounge chair. “Come on, sit down.”

Sungchan cautiously sat at the edge, like he was worried he was gonna tip the thing over. At least it was easier to make eye contact with him like this.

“Taking a page out of Johnny’s book?” Sungchan joked, grinning at Mark. Mark beamed back. Sungchan hardly ever played around with him.

“Sure am,” Mark faked a yawn, stretching out lazily in a parody of Johnny’s usual lounging at work. “Gotta work on my tan, yo.”

 “Great job at championships, yesterday,” Sungchan congratulated him. Mark grinned. That’s right. Sungchan was one of the guards who’d worked the event yesterday, a first year employee who got stuck with the weekend shifts the more senior staff avoided like the plague.

“Thanks, bro. Means a lot.”

“You and Yeri did a really good job coaching,” Sungchan complimented. Mark’s smile turned a bit shy. “I mean, not that I was surprised or anything! You were a really awesome captain last year.”

“For real?” Mark was a bit surprised. He and Jeno had co-captained the boys swim team, but Mark hadn’t thought he’d done anything special. It was usually Jeno the team went to to complain about interpersonal drama, to intervene in their little problems. Mark just like, organized the captain’s practices and pasta suppers. “Thanks, Sungchannie. That’s really nice of you to say.”

“I mean it,” Sungchan insisted, sounding surprisingly earnest. The tips of his ears were slightly red. “You gave me some pointers on my arms for fly, and it really helped me out. I dropped two seconds off my hundred yard time the next meet.”

Mark vaguely remembered Sungchan as being a very talented butterfly competitor, and quite good at freestyle sprints too. But he could not for the life of him remember giving the guy any advice. He didn’t want Sungchan to realize that, though. Besides, the flattery was making pride bubble up in Mark.

“I’m glad you think I helped, but honestly, man, you’re a great swimmer,” Mark told him honestly. Sungchan smiled happily, in that somewhat shy way of his. Mark was vaguely reminded of those cartoon deer from Disney. He slapped Sungchan on the knee companionably.

“Hey, Sungchan. You should rotate in about a minute, might wanna grab your stuff.”

Johnny’s voice was a surprise to Mark, but clearly startled Sungchan quite badly. He flushed bright red and nodded, practically scrambling off the chair to the guard house to grab a rescue tube.

“There’s no rush! You’re good on time, dude!” Johnny called after him, to no avail. Sungchan still started the rotation early. Well, Lia would be happy enough to start her break a minute early.

“And to think you didn’t believe me when I told you plenty of the kids had crushes on you,” Johnny shook his head dramatically, clearly on the verge of laughter. Mark gave him a confused look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Sungchan. That kid is crushing on you so hard he can barely talk to you,” Johnny was trying to tamp down his snickers. An embarrassed flush took over Mark’s face. Johnny was wrong, but worse – his words could have very well described Mark three years ago, or even two.

“Okay, well first of all, Sungchan works here. It’s not the same as being a member of the team!” Mark pointed out. “Second of all, he does not have a crush! He’s just shy.”

“Are you trying to get out on a technicality?” Johnny arched his brows and set his hands on his hips. Mark folded his arms across his chest stubbornly, sulking back into the shade the umbrella over the lounge chair provided. “Okay, fine. He works here now, but I heard your conversation. You were his swim captain last year, when he was a freshman. That’s basically the same thing as you coaching some of the fourteen and fifteen-year-olds this summer, Mark.”

“I mean…” Mark trailed off. He didn’t know what to say, other than to protest that Sungchan did not, and had never, had a crush on him. He also felt vaguely guilty talking about this when Sungchan wasn’t that far away, just across the pool sitting on chair one. Doing his job, while Mark and Johnny gossiped about him. “Whatever.”

“Believe me or don’t, I have eyes. That kid hero worships you, and he turned bright red when you were stretching out earlier, looking all sexy,” Johnny continued. Mark groaned, throwing his forearm over his eyes.

“I wasn’t being ‘sexy’, I was imitating you as a joke.”

“Cool, so… being sexy,” Johnny replied with a grin. Mark couldn’t help but chuckle. Mentally, he conceded the point. He did secretly think Johnny’s lazing about and sunbathing was very attractive. It had been a form of entertainment for Mark the past few years to watch him do it.

“Whatever, Johnny.”

“Wanna come over tonight? My mom said there’s kimchi-jjigae in the fridge for us,” Johnny asked, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Mark nodded quickly.

“Yeah, yeah. Sounds good.”

Johnny smiled at him happily, only to be called away by Jisung up on chair two before he could say anything else. There seemed to be a disgruntled mother by the chair, positively swelling with rage and clutching her soaking-wet child by the shoulder. Mark winced. He wished Johnny luck dealing with that.

He settled back in the lounge chair and idly responded to Lucas’ texts about furnishing their dorm room (they were totally getting a lava lamp), trying not to let a vague melancholy settle over him. It was a sunny day, the pool wasn’t too busy, he had seen his best friends last night to celebrate Jaemin’s birthday.

Mark sighed. Lucas’ texts, while cheerful and enthusiastic, were just reminding Mark about his imminent departure. Less than a week to go.

It hadn’t even been two weeks ago that Johnny had picked Mark up the night of his birthday and dragged him into the ocean, holding Mark like he was something precious. Right then, Mark had felt like he held the world in his hands.

Now it just felt like sand was slipping between his fingers, the grains too fine to ever catch.

🌊 🌊 🌊  

The last three days of work seemed to disappear in a blink. Everyone said bye to him on Friday, wrapping him in hugs and telling him they hoped to see him next summer. Mark accepted it all in a kind of daze. He still couldn’t really believe it. Even as Donghyuck and Renjun came over, ostensibly to help him pack – though Donghyuck was more hindrance than help (Renjun at least knew how to fold clothes properly, something Mark still couldn’t quite manage) – Mark couldn’t believe it. A huge suitcase lined up in the hallway, stuffed to the brim, and a carry-on roller lying in wait by his desk with his backpack sitting atop it. His drawers were strangely barren, half-emptied of clothes that would go in Mark’s college closet.

And yet, Mark still couldn’t believe it. 

He went over to Jeno’s house on Friday night with everyone else to eat pizza and play video games, and got absolutely crushed as per usual by everyone in attendance. It was strange to think that he wouldn’t be here next week, next month, doing this. That nights like this were about to become rare, stolen moments when he was home on break. Mark had spent countless nights like this with his friends. It felt like half his life was just him hanging out with these boys, wasting time and doing stupid shit, cracking up over nothing. And come Sunday… that would be gone. A whole chapter of Mark’s life was closing, the only one he’d ever known. He didn’t even know how to go about beginning to accept that.

It was surreal. Mark couldn’t process it. And on top of all of that – he couldn’t stop thinking about Johnny.

Mark spent most of Saturday being the dutiful son, going out to lunch with his parents, watching two episodes of a TV show with them, helping his dad pump more air into all their bike tires that had started to go flat.

His phone was burning a hole in his pocket the whole time, the text from Johnny saying he’d meet Mark at seven taunting him. Mark wanted to check compulsively that it was there, see it in writing. He still had one more night with Johnny. He still had one more chance. Mark was hinging all his hopes on that little gray bubble, on ‘see you at 7’, on a summer’s worth of moments that had added up to something close to love. For Mark, at least. And he had to know. He needed to know.

Donghyuck had texted Mark this morning, asking him if he wanted to hang out tonight. Mark had told him he couldn’t make it, and judging by Donghyuck’s reply, he wasn’t surprised. But he’d texted Mark anyway. Did that make him a shitty friend, for wanting to spend his last night at home with Johnny, and not the core group of people who had carried him through the last four years, loved him through his ups and downs, supported him unconditionally?

Maybe. But Mark was gonna do it anyway.

He had to. He had to try. He had to convince Johnny that this was worth it; that they were worth it. To give them a real shot. 

Mark left a sweatshirt in his passenger seat, because by the time he got home it’d probably be cold. Hopefully. If things went well. Mark was glad the setting sun was behind him as he headed over to Johnny’s house, wearing his glasses instead of the contacts that would allow for sunglasses. He didn’t want to deal with contact lenses tonight.

… 

Johnny met Mark in the Suh’s driveway with a bright smile and tight hug, then loaded Mark into the Crosstrek. He drove them down to the beach, parked them at the same entrance he had on Mark’s birthday.

As they walked down the sand, seafoam brushing against the soles of their sandals, Mark nearly wanted to laugh. For as much as he associated Johnny with water, this was only the second time he’d ever been to the ocean with him, despite living only a couple miles away.

It was windy, tonight, enough so that they’d already donned their sweatshirts. There weren’t many tourists out this late, mainly surfers taking the risk of hitting the waves at night to take advantage of the swells kicked up by the wind. They walked nearly half a mile before Mark came to a stop. There weren’t any other people for nearly a hundred yards in each direction. This was as good as it was gonna get.

It took a moment for Johnny to realize he wasn’t walking with him anymore, and he turned around with his eyebrows arched. Immediately, he seemed to read something in Mark’s expression. His face fell.

Mark tried not to let it dishearten him.

“Johnny,” he began, praying that his voice wouldn’t waver. “Look, we’ve been avoiding talking about this for weeks, and I’m done. I’m done tip-toeing around it. I know at the beginning of the summer we said this would be casual, and no strings attached, but Johnny. There are so many strings.”

Johnny didn’t contradict Mark. He didn’t agree, either. He just kept watching him, expression inscrutable. Mark took a deep breath.

“I really, really like you, Johnny. I have for ages. I want to date you, for real. And I think you want to date me, too.”

Mark waited with baited breath. Johnny folded his lips together, worried the hem of his sweatshirt between his fingers. Then he sighed in what seemed like defeat, broad shoulders slumping. Like this, Johnny seemed barely any taller than Mark. He nodded once. 

A surge of reckless hope filled Mark’s chest.

“Date me, Johnny. Be my boyfriend. You basically are, already, hardly anything would have to change. And I’d be willing to try long distance, we could make it work. We’d be so good together.”

“Mark…”

Mark’s heart clenched, so tight he was tempted to rub over his sternum. Mark didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until Johnny touched his hand, startling him into exhaling.

“Mark, we can’t do that,” Johnny said, so quietly he was almost drowned out by the waves. “We can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” Mark asked stubbornly, setting his jaw. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. Johnny sighed, pushed his hair back from his eyes. It made Mark ache.

“I don’t want to lie to you, Mark. I like you a lot. I like you so much–”

“So why?” Mark asked, voice breaking halfway through the question. “Why won’t you even try to give us a chance?”

“It wouldn’t work out. The distance, for a brand-new relationship… Mark, you have to understand–”

“Stop, just – stop,” Mark tried fruitlessly to cut Johnny off, to end the string of platitudes before he was forced to hear them. It didn’t work.

“Baby, if things were different, maybe we’d make something out of this. Something real, something that would last. But that’s not the way it is. And you’re not gonna tie yourself down with a new long-distance relationship your first semester at college. You don’t wanna do that to yourself,” Johnny’s voice was gentle, but every word still hit like a blow to Mark’s ribs.

He could try to make this about Mark, and wanting the best for Mark, all he wanted. Mark had spent too many hours with Johnny to be fooled by his redirection this time. He dug his heels into the sand, stood his ground.

“And you’re not gonna tie yourself down with a long-distance relationship your first full year in the big city,” Mark replied, far more bitter than he had intended. “Especially not with some college freshman, while you’re working your real job.”

Johnny winced slightly.

“Well… yeah,” he was apologetic, at least. Slightly. But absolutely unwavering, no matter how many promises Mark made him, no matter how many bargains he offered.

“Please, Johnny, please.” 

Mark had never begged like this in his life. Not in bed, when Johnny had made him ask for it, over and over again, merciless.

Johnny had even less mercy now. More tenderness; but no mercy.

Tears were pouring down his face, and Mark was so fucking embarrassed. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes under his glasses, tried to press hard enough to force the salty drops back inside. It didn’t work. His chest was hitching, his breathing fucked from crying so hard. His sweatshirt sleeve came away smeared with snot, because his nose was running.

“No, Mark,” Johnny said – and then, he hugged him. He tucked Mark into the crook of his neck, just like he’d done a hundred times by now, and didn’t even care that Mark was smearing his mess of a face all over his golden, perfect skin. He placed a firm palm between his shoulder blades, wrapped the other around his hip hard enough to hurt, and cradled Mark to his chest. It should have been suffocating. But somehow, the pressure of that embrace soothed him – even though it was delivered by the person making him sob like he never had in his life on the shore of the Atlantic. The pressure got him to calm down until he wasn’t at risk of hyperventilating, just quietly snuffling, hiding in Johnny’s shoulder. He soaked up the warmth from the older man, as if he’d be able to hold it within him and carry it back home, even when Johnny was gone.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he was whispering into Mark’s hair. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I swear. You gotta believe me. I didn’t think you were gonna mean this much to me. I’m sorry.”

Unspoken: Johnny had always known he would mean this much to Mark. And he’d gone and started this whole thing anyways. Damn him.

“Don’t apologize,” Mark croaked, sucking in a rattling breath. He exhaled shakily, against the wet warmth of Johnny’s neck, absolutely soaked in his tears. “Don’t.”

He took a step back, forcing the circle of Johnny’s arms to release him. He wiped his sweatshirt sleeves aggressively over his face, absolutely wrecking them. Johnny made no move to clean off the mess of tears and snot from his own shoulder.

“I get it,” Mark said, looking down at his toes, curled in the cool sand. It was turning purple, under the twilight now setting in. He glanced out at the sea. It wasn’t quite black, yet, the way it was in the dead of night. The way it’d been when Johnny took him out here to go skinny-dipping, a mere two weeks ago.

It felt like a lifetime ago; back when he thought he had Johnny. He never had. Mark had never had Johnny. He’d just fooled himself into thinking he did.

“Really,” he said, staring out at the ocean. It was calm tonight, barely any whitecaps. The sky was reflecting off the surface.

It was beautiful.

Mark didn’t look at Johnny’s face, as he took a deep breath in, let it fill his lungs, straightening his shoulders. 

“Really,” he repeated. “I get it, Johnny. I do.”

He chanced a glance back, and Johnny was staring directly at him. He wasn’t afraid to look Mark in the eye; not like Mark, who was terrified to see his face. He was practically shaking with the effort of looking up at this man who had laid him bare out here on the edge of an ocean. 

Then their gazes locked, and Mark couldn’t have looked away if he tried.

“I get it. I just fucking hate it.”

…

Mark always knew this had an expiration date. One that matched the departure on his plane ticket, his ticket out of here to the city of angels. To the city of his dreams. He always knew. Even if he’d tried to forget it, push it away, convince himself it could be otherwise – Mark knew.

And still. Still, it hurt so fucking bad, he couldn’t believe it.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye then,” he blinked back tears hard, shoving his hands in his pockets. He tried to give Johnny a wry little curl of his mouth, the barest hint of a smile, something. Something so that Johnny’s last memory of Mark’s face wasn’t him puffy-eyed and miserable. He didn’t manage it. 

“Hey, maybe we’ll see each other around,” Johnny comforted him, cupping his hand over the side of Mark’s face, rubbing his thumb across his cheekbone. For the last time. It hurt so bad, and yet Mark still leaned heavily into the warmth of Johnny’s palm, because it was the last time he was ever gonna get it. He was the moth being pulled into the flame, over and over again. The same way he had been all summer. Deep down, Mark had always known he was going to get burned; and he'd gone all in anyways.

“I mean, probably not, but sure,” Mark shrugged, pressing his lips together, trying to make it sound flippant and not hoarse. Johnny gave him the smallest smile, and Mark would have liked to think it was tinged with some measure of regret.

Because this was it. Mark was flying across the country, and in a few weeks – Johnny would be too, boarding a plane to move his life halfway across the nation, settle his roots even further in a city Mark has never seen. He wasn’t gonna be back next summer; not like Mark will be. He won’t be on break from May to August, won’t be back at the pool lounging on a chaise with his shirt off and head thrown back laughing, won’t be hanging off the side of chair to talk shit with Mark, won’t be taking him to the beach or the quarry or Claudette’s or his bedroom. He’ll just… be in Chicago, and Mark will be back home for the summer break. Without him, for the first time in his memory. A summer without Johnny.

The thought alone stung. He couldn’t imagine how the reality of it was going to ache. Was it going to set in his teeth, pain leeching through his gums and tightening his jaw? Was it going to settle in his chest, make his heartbeat erratic and lungs too tight, ribs pressing in on them, choking him?

Mark kissed Johnny goodbye for the last time, pressed against the driver’s side door of his car. It wasn’t a chaste thing. It was desperate, open-mouthed, too much to be doing in the driveway of Johnny’s house, in view of his parents and the neighbors and god and everyone. He did it anyway, sucked on Johnny’s tongue like he’d never get anything better. They were panting by the end of it, foreheads pressed together. When Mark opened his eyes, Johnny was already looking down at him.

Something was swimming in his gaze, but Mark didn’t know what. He never learned to read Johnny. Not the way Johnny learned to read him — so easily, so effortlessly, without trying. And Mark had tried, but couldn’t do it. No matter how many times Johnny laid him out in bed, he always remained that little bit untouchable.

The boy he’d been half-in-love with since he was fourteen pressed one more kiss to his lips, simple. Then he pushed away from Mark (fingertips lingering on his waist for one long moment) smiled half-heartedly, and turned back to his house. His hands were shoved deep in his jeans pockets, and Mark forced himself to take steady, even breaths as he stuck the key in the ignition and backed out of the drive. 

He didn’t look back. He didn’t want to know if Johnny watched him go from the doorway, or if he disappeared inside his house without stealing one last glance.

Mark slipped upstairs and into his room without saying goodnight to his parents, feeling like a pretty shitty son for it. He’d make it up to them at the airport tomorrow. For now, he slid between his covers and buried his face in his pillow.

If he stayed up far too late crying, until the numbers glowing on his digital clock were only two hours shy of his alarm setting – well, that was his business.

He could sleep on the plane.

🌊 🌊 🌊

Coda.

To live for the hope of it all.

The summer Mark turns twenty, he remembers to bring a sweatshirt to the summer staff meeting in the community center.

He nuzzles into the cozy folds of the hood, swiping through his phone notifications idly before the meeting kicks into full gear, before his friends come find him at this table and pull up chairs to crowd around, catching up on everything that has happened in the semester since they last saw each other. 

He swipes away the 5 new snap notifications that Lucas sent him since he left his house (he never should have let his roommate download the damn app), but does tap open the 7 waiting text notifs from Sushi 🍣 🦈 💪 🐶 ✨ . He laughs as he reads Lucas’ excited recount of his encounter with the girl he’s been chasing after for weeks now, who works shifts in the gym at the same time Lucas usually works out. Apparently, she told him his set looked good today, that his focus on his back was really paying off.

Mork: dude, she was totally flirting

Sushi: okay RIGHT????? RIGHT LIKE IM NOT MISREADING THIS OR HALLUCINATING RIGHT

Sushi: SHE THINKS MY BACK IS COMING ALONG NICELY THAT MEANS SHE’S CHECKING OUT MY MUSCLES RIIIIGHT?????

Mork: for sure

Mork: you should ask her out next time

Mork: or like, for her number

He muffles a giggle at the string of emojis Lucas shoots back, only comprehensible due to nine months of being best bros with the guy.

Mark glances up, feeling eyes on him. Jisung spots him and waves, heading over just as Jeno plops himself down in the chair beside Mark. Yeri comes out of nowhere, sliding in across the table and sitting sideways, slumping down on the fake-wood laminate. Sungchan wanders over then too, giving Mark a shy fist-bump before settling down on his other side after some encouragement from the older boy.

Mark tucks his phone away in his kangaroo pocket and puts his eyes up front when he sees the parks and rec director wander up to the makeshift podium, turning on her PowerPoint presentation of all the legal regulations she’s obligated to review. The same one as last year; as next year.

...

Mark only just missed the call, marked two minutes before the end of his meeting. He hits the call back option as he wriggles out of his sweatshirt in the sweltering parking lot, putting his phone to his ear just in time to catch the greeting on the other line.

“Hey, babe. Missed you.”

“Yo, don’t you have office hours right now?” Mark laughs, checking the time on his watch just to make sure, mentally sliding it three hours back. Jongin sighs playfully. 

“No one comes to office hours in the summer,” he complains, clearly smiling through the words. Mark can just picture him – plain white t-shirt on, three delicate silver necklaces looped around his neck. Skinny jeans, no rips (he is at work, after all), legs stretched out under his shitty desk to rest on the unoccupied chair, and probably a pair of incredibly dorky sandals encasing his feet.

“They’re missing out,” Mark chuckles, unlocking his car and chucking his sweatshirt in the passenger seat. “One sec, gotta switch you over.”

He turns the key in the ignition and waits for his Bluetooth connection to kick in, filtering Jongin’s voice through the speakers, slightly crackly and muffled under the blast of the air conditioning. It was still  the smoothest, warmest sound Mark had ever heard.

“You had your summer meeting thing today, right?” 

Mark hums an affirmative, looking both ways as he pulls out of the lot onto the quiet street the community center calls home.

“How’d your first day as manager go?” Jongin sounds genuinely interested, and happy. The smile in his voice is still there. It almost always is, when he’s talking to Mark. 

“Good,” Mark laughs, nodding to himself. “Really good, actually. How are your students? Has anyone asked for an extension after the deadline’s already passed, yet?”

Jongin’s dramatic groan is a sufficient answer to that question, but he obligingly dives into regaling Mark with tales of his unruly students, affection tinging every word. Mark laughs along, enraptured by the stories, slowing down for his turns and flicking on his blinker automatically.

A mile before he hit his street, Mark picks his head up slightly, taking his eyes off the road for half a second to glance to the right. For a moment, Jongin’s voice fades in his ears, a muffled, static sound, like he’s underwater. Mark gazes at the turn-off for Johnny’s neighborhood – well, his parent’s neighborhood, anyways. He blinks once, then puts his eyes back on the road, back on the telephone wires encased in the summer foliage and the familiar houses and corner stores rushing past him. 

Jongin’s voice kicks back in, encasing Mark in its honey-warmth, just as he reaches the dramatic conclusion of his latest conversation with his supervisory professor. Mark laughs, all too familiar with that man’s strange habits. After all, he’d been the professor of the first college course Mark had ever walked into – and Jongin had been his TA, tall and beautiful and golden standing just off the side of the lecture podium.

He hadn’t fallen in love at first sight, but it had been a near thing. 

“Nini, I gotta go. I’m having dinner with my parents,” Mark informs his boyfriend, phone squished between his shoulder and cheek as he swings his bag over his shoulder and locks the car behind him. The screen is gonna be unbearably greasy when he hangs up, but Mark doesn’t care.

“Alright, Mark-ah, eat well,” Jongin tells him warmly, sighing to himself. “I should probably get some work done, anyways. Facetime later?”

“Facetime later,” Mark promises, grin overtaking his face. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye!”

fin.