Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jaemin had spent the entire week thinking about it.

How could he not? It was the only thing he could ever think about. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could picture the hungry face that Mark made when he was being fucked by Mark’s boyfriend. The fuck was good. Jeno felt good. But Jaemin couldn’t contain the feeling of excitement that had settled deep in his bones. He could still hear the way Mark had teased him last time, could still see the way Jeno had melted beneath him. The memory alone sent heat curling low in his stomach, a slow burn that refused to fade. He wanted that. He wanted to be the one beneath Mark, to feel his burning touches, to be unraveled by him piece by piece.

The prospect of finally being on the receiving end of Mark’s passion was what made him last through the week because sharing classes with Mark wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Jaemin was sure that Mark was purposefully torturing him with his endless teasing.

Mark wasn't even trying to be subtle about it.

The smirk he sent Jaemin's way whenever their eyes met in class, the way he let his fingers brush against him when passing by, the playful yet knowing glances–it was enough to drive Jaemin insane. And Mark knew it. He fucking knew it.

It was in the way he whispered a casual “See you Thursday ” in Jaemin's ear before leaving the lecture hall, his voice laced with something darker, something that sent a shiver down Jaemin's spine. It was in the way his hand lingered a little too long when he handed Jaemin his notes, his fingers barely grazing his wrist, but the touch felt electrifying. Every little thing Mark did feel like a promise, like a warning. And Jaemin had never been more ready to fall apart.

By the time Thursday arrived, Jaemin was a mess of restless energy. He could barely function normally, and he didn’t pay attention to any of his lectures. And throughout the class today, Mark was sitting next to him. Like a menace that he was, his hand rested on Jaemin’s thigh, squeezing it at random moments, all while keeping a serious face as if he was listening to the professor explaining something about thermodynamics.

The walk to Mark and Jeno’s apartment was quiet, but Mark was bold in his gesture. Ever since they left the lecture hall, Mark had his arm around Jaemin’s waist like he was some kind of possessive freak. Jaemin was hyper aware of the stares thrown their way, yet Mark didn’t seem to care much about it.

Once they made it to the apartment, Mark didn’t shout “Baby I’m home” like he usually would. The apartment seemed to be quieter than usual. There was no sign of Jeno anywhere, and Mark seemed to notice Jaemin’s confusion.

“Jeno is at his parents’, it’s their wedding anniversary tonight, so he and his siblings are preparing a surprise party.” Mark casually said as he dropped his backpack on the couch.

Jaemin glanced at the clock. It was still early, just a little past ten in the morning. The realization hit all at once. Jeno wouldn't be back for the rest of the day. That meant only the two of them were here. A rush of anticipation coursed through his veins, making his skin prickle.

Mark turned then, gaze sharp yet unreadable. Jaemin didn’t even remember Mark moving because he was now leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, he studied Jaemin in a way that made the air feel too thick to breathe. 

“You've been thinking about it, haven't you?” Mark’s voice was smug.

No immediate answer came, but the way Jaemin’s body tensed gave him away.

“I could tell. The way you look at me in class, the way you react whenever I touch you,” Mark pushed off the counter, closing the distance between them in a slow, predatory stride. “You've been waiting for this.”

It was maddening how easily he could be read, how effortlessly he could be unraveled with just words and a well-timed glance. But denying it now would be pointless, not when he wanted it so badly. 

As an attempt to seem brave, Jaemin tilted his chin up defiantly. "So what if I have?"

Mark’s smirk deepened. "Then I guess we should stop wasting time."

Before another word could be said, a firm grip took his wrist, guiding Jaemin toward the bedroom with confident strides that made his knees weak. The moment they stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind them, sealing them away from the rest of the world.

There was barely a chance to take a breath before Mark was on him, pressing his back against the door, hands firm and demanding as they gripped his waist. The kiss that followed was hot and unrelenting, a clash of teeth and tongues, a display of control that Mark wanted Jaemin to notice. Mark’s fingers dug into his hips, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.

“You sure you're ready for this?” Mark murmured against his lips.

Jaemin let out a shaky exhale, his body already waiting for more. “I've been ready since last week.”

At his answer, Mark grinned, the kind that sent a thrill through every nerve in his body. “Good,” Mark said, voice dripping with promise. "Because I'm not holding back today. You are going to take what I give you, okay?"

When Mark’s words rang through his ears, Jaemin shuddered. Before last week, he didn’t know Mark could be full of filth. The Mark he was more accustomed to was sweet, easily amused, quite shy, and a compliment machine. He was the type to send good morning texts with way too many heart emojis, to praise Jaemin for the smallest things–his outfit, his smile, the way he paid attention to class. Jaemin suspected that his top love language was words of affirmation, and he had grown used to it, even fond of it.

But last week had shattered that image completely.

The Mark he saw last week was something else entirely.

He was rough. Commanding. A sharp contrast to the softness Jaemin was used to. The Mark he saw last week didn’t just give compliments–he tore them away and replaced them with something more sinister. Something humiliating. He had laughed when Jaemin had gasped too loudly, whispered filth in his ear just to watch him squirm, called him pathetic in the sweetest, most condescending tone Jaemin had ever heard. And Jaemin loved every second of it.

The memory sent a jolt of heat through him, pooling low in his stomach, making his cock twitch in his jeans. The anticipation of what Mark might do to him tonight made his entire body feel like it was on fire. Would he tease him again, drag him to the edge and leave him begging? Would he whisper those filthy things in his ear, make him fall apart with just words?

Jaemin barely had time to process before Mark’s hands were on him again.

Every touch sent a fresh wave of heat through his body, making it impossible to think straight. Mark kissed him like he wanted to consume him, his lips hot and insistent, tongue sweeping into his mouth with a power that made Jaemin’s knees buckle. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mixture of spearmint and something undeniably Mark.

His hands were everywhere–gripping Jaemin’s waist, slipping under his shirt to trace heated patterns over his skin, digging into his hips like he was staking a claim. The sheer force of it made Jaemin dizzy, made him feel like he was unraveling beneath Mark’s touch. And the worst part?

Mark knew exactly what he was doing to him.

A low chuckle rumbled from Mark’s chest as he pulled back, leaving Jaemin breathless. "Look at you," he murmured, his thumb brushing against Jaemin’s lower lip. "Already falling apart, and I’ve barely touched you."

Jaemin swallowed hard, his heart pounding. He wanted to say something clever, something to wipe that smug grin off Mark’s face, but his voice betrayed him. The only sound that escaped was a whine.

Mark seemed to revel in the effect he had, his gaze dark and unreadable as he pushed Jaemin toward the bed. When the backs of Jaemin’s knees hit the mattress, Mark didn’t give him a chance to think. He pressed Jaemin down, crawling over him with slow, calculated movements.

"Last week," Mark started, his fingers trailing down Jaemin’s arm, barely grazing the fabric of his shirt, "you enjoyed being used by my boyfriend, didn’t you?"

Jaemin felt his skin burn. The memory of Jeno beneath him while being fucked by Mark, the way their bodies moved together, the raw sounds that filled the room. Everything had haunted him all week. And Mark knew it. He fucking knew it.

"You wanted to be in Jeno’s place," Mark continued, voice smooth, teasing. "Did you picture it? My hands on you instead?" Jaemin’s breath hitched, and Mark smirked at his silence. "I bet you did."

Mark leaned in, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin just below Jaemin’s jaw. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down his spine. "Tell me, Jaemin," he whispered, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt. "Did you touch yourself thinking about it? Thinking about me?"

Jaemin squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassment flooding him, but Mark wasn’t having it.

"Don’t get shy on me now," Mark murmured, his fingers tracing slow circles over Jaemin’s waist. "I want to hear it."

Jaemin’s breath was uneven, his body already betraying him. Mark’s touch was light, infuriatingly slow, setting his nerves on fire. He could barely hold back.

"Yes," he admitted, voice so quiet, if Mark weren’t right in front of him, he would’ve missed it.

Mark hummed in approval, his hand finally slipping beneath Jaemin’s shirt, palm pressing against the bare skin of his stomach. "That’s what I thought."

His touch was gentle but firm, fingers exploring and memorizing every inch of Jaemin’s skin. Jaemin’s body responded instantly, arching into the warmth of Mark’s hand, chasing more contact.

Mark chuckled again, pleased. "You’re so easy to read," he said, his lips brushing against Jaemin’s ear. "So desperate."

Jaemin’s hands fisted the sheets beneath him. "Shut up," he muttered, but it lacked any real bite.

"Make me." Mark grinned, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes.

The challenge hung between them. And Jaemin, fueled by frustration and unbearable need, did exactly that. He surged forward, crashing their lips together in a kiss that was just as greedy, just as demanding as Mark’s had been. He poured every ounce of his pent-up anticipation into it just enough to wipe that smirk off Mark’s face.

But Mark wasn’t one to be outmatched.

With a sharp, planned roll of his hips, he stole Jaemin’s breath away. The friction from their clothed crotch felt so good, Jaemin moaned into the kiss. His resolve to try to stand on his ground quickly wavered. Mark knew exactly how to keep him on a leash.

Mark pulled away to break their kiss. Jaemin could only imagine how he looked like right now–face flushed, breath uneven, eyes glazed with want. However, from where Jaemin was at this moment, Mark looked like a fucking god.

His hair was slightly disheveled, lips swollen from their heated kisses, and his dark eyes burned with something possessive. His breathing was heavy, but he was still composed, still in control. Jaemin felt like he was unraveling, yet Mark remained there, perfectly steady, perfectly aware of the effect he had.

A slow smirk curled on Mark’s lips. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. His fingers trailed down Jaemin’s jaw, tilting his chin up slightly, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Already wrecked, and I’ve barely done anything."

Jaemin swallowed hard, his heart pounding. He wanted to say something witty but the words died in his throat when Mark leaned in, his lips barely brushing against Jaemin’s ear.

"You like this, don’t you?" Mark’s voice was low before he licked a stripe along Jaemin’s ear. "Being under me. Being put in your place."

Jaemin shivered, his fingers clenching the fabric of Mark’s shirt. He hated how easy it was for Mark to get under his skin, how quickly he lost himself in this, and how much he wanted to be ruined by him.

Mark chuckled, clearly pleased by his silence. His fingers trailed down Jaemin’s chest, barely touching, a ghost of contact that sent a fresh wave of heat through him. Then, with an intended slowness, Mark pressed his palm against Jaemin’s stomach, pushing up the hem of his shirt, exposing the skin beneath. Jaemin let out a shaky breath, his body instinctively arching into the touch.

"You’re so easy," Mark mused, dragging his thumb over the dip of Jaemin’s hip. "I didn’t even have to ask to have you on my cock. You did that already, in front of my boyfriend, too."

Jaemin clenched his jaw, forcing himself to hold onto the last shred of sanity he had left. "You like that about me," he muttered.

Mark’s smirk deepened. "You are right," he countered, punctuating his words with another slow grind of his hips.

Jaemin choked on a moan, his grip tightening on Mark’s shoulders. Mark then wasted no time to take Jaemin’s shirt off, exposing his bare body that Mark had seen last week when he was being fucked by Mark’s very own boyfriend. Mark’s fingers skimmed over Jaemin’s exposed chest, slow and deliberate, like he was mapping out territory that already belonged to him. His touch was light, almost teasing, dragging over heated skin, down the center of his torso before tracing the sharp cut of his hip bone. Jaemin’s breath hitched, his muscles tensing beneath the barely-there contact.

A slow exhale ghosted over Jaemin’s neck before Mark pressed in, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below his jaw. A nip, a sharp sting of teeth, soothed quickly by the wet heat of his tongue. The sensation sent a jolt through Jaemin, his body arching slightly, seeking more.

Mark’s hands never stayed still. They roamed all over his body, fingers pressing into Jaemin’s waist before sliding up to knead the curve of his ribs. The pressure was firm, possessive, as if reminding Jaemin exactly whose hands were on him now.

He barely had time to process before Mark moved lower, dropping to his knees in one smooth motion. Strong hands gripped Jaemin’s thighs, spreading them apart, fingers digging into the flesh like he owned them. The sight alone made the knot Jaemin’s stomach tighten.

Mark took his time. He pressed kisses along Jaemin’s stomach, lips dragging against fevered skin. His teeth scraped just above the waistband of Jaemin’s jeans before his fingers followed, unbuttoning them with ease, tugging them down inch by inch until Jaemin was left in his briefs.

“You’re already hard for me, baby,” Mark mused, a chuckle followed after.

Fingers curled around Jaemin’s thighs again, pushing him back until he was against the headboard. Mark followed, pressing down.

Jaemin barely had a moment to think before Mark’s mouth was on him again, lips and tongue and teeth working in tandem, dragging sounds from his throat that he couldn’t control.

When Mark pulled away, Jaemin chased after his lips which made Mark scoff. Mark worked to take his own clothes off before doing it for Jaemin until there was no piece of fabric hiding their skin. Jaemin was already hard. His cock was flushed red with beads of precome oozing from the tip. 

Jaemin didn’t miss the way Mark licked his lips at the sight of Jaemin’s cock. The look sent electricity that spread all over his body. Mark then took a bottle of lube from the bedside table and squeezed some, smearing it all over his palm.

The moment Mark’s hand wrapped around his cock, Jaemin hissed both from the cool sensation of the lube and from the contact. Mark stared right into Jaemin, as if he could read every thought inside Jaemin’s mind. Then Mark’s hand started moving, the lube that’s dripping to his balls made the slide easier. Instinctively, Jaemin’s hips bucked forward, chasing his own pleasure. Mark used his other hand to pin Jaemin down by placing it on top of Jaemin’s stomach.

Mark’s grip was firm, holding Jaemin in place as his slick hand continued its slow, careful strokes. Every movement was calculated, just enough pressure to keep Jaemin gasping, just enough tease to keep him wanting more. Mark watched him intently, his eyes dark, lips parted slightly as if savoring every reaction Jaemin gave him.

Jaemin’s thighs twitched, his body tensing under Mark’s control. The way Mark held him down, not allowing him to move, sent a sharp thrill straight to his core. Every stroke, every squeeze had him unraveling faster than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t even inside him yet, and Jaemin was already coming undone.

Mark’s thumb slid over the sensitive head of Jaemin’s cock, spreading the precome in slow, lazy circles that made Jaemin whimper. His breathing was ragged, his body burning from the inside out. Mark wasn’t in a hurry, wasn’t rushing. In fact, he was taking his time, enjoying the way Jaemin writhed beneath him, the way his muscles tensed with every drag of his hand.

"Look at you," Mark murmured, his voice low and thick. His hand tightened, giving Jaemin a particularly firm stroke that made his entire body jolt. "So desperate already."

Jaemin could only let out a broken moan in response, his hands gripping the sheets, fingers curling into the fabric as Mark kept working him with precision. He could feel his orgasm building, the heat in his stomach coiling tighter and tighter, his body aching for release.

“Mark I’m–ah–close!”

But Mark wasn’t done.

Before Jaemin could even think about finding relief, Mark slowed his strokes, dragging out the pleasure, keeping him on edge. Jaemin let out a frustrated whine, his hips straining against Mark’s hand that was still pressing him down.

"That’s too soon, baby," Mark whispered, leaning down to press his lips against Jaemin’s ear. His breath was warm, teasing. "You should only come on my cock."

Jaemin swallowed hard before whining because Mark’s hand was no longer on his cock. Distantly, he heard the sound of a lid opening up. He only realized what it was when Mark teased his hole with one finger. It made him gasp, like all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs, leaving him breathless.

Without any preamble, Mark’s finger breached his hole. And Jaemin, honest to God, cried. His fingers gripped on the sheets beneath him like he was holding on for dear life. Mark worked his finger in slowly, the slick slide burning in the best way possible. Jaemin felt every inch of it, the stretch, the way his walls clenched instinctively around the intrusion. His breath hitched, body tensing before melting into the sensation.

“Fuck,” Jaemin gasped, his thighs trembling. The fullness was barely anything, just one finger, but it still sent a jolt of pleasure up his spine.

Mark didn’t let him adjust for long. He curled his finger, pressing against that one spot that had Jaemin arching off the bed, his mouth falling open in a soundless moan. His vision blurred for a second, white-hot pleasure flashing through him like lightning.

Mark hummed, pleased. “There it is.”

Jaemin barely had time to catch his breath before a second finger joined the first, stretching him further. The burn was sharper now, but it was drowned out by the pleasure curling deep in his gut. Mark didn’t rush, didn’t shove them in all at once. He worked Jaemin open with slow, careful movements, scissoring his fingers, stretching him just right. Every motion sent more heat pooling in his stomach, the need inside him growing unbearable.

Mark didn’t stop at two. A third finger joined the first two, the stretch more intense now, a slow, burning drag that made Jaemin shudder. His breath came out in short, broken gasps as his body worked to accommodate the intrusion. Mark was patient but relentless, twisting and scissoring his fingers, coaxing Jaemin open inch by inch.

Jaemin let out a frustrated whimper, hips moving restlessly against Mark’s hand. He was so hard it hurt, his cock twitching, neglected between his legs. 

“Mark,” Jaemin whined, breathless. “Want you. Please.”

“Not yet, princess,” Mark murmured, his other hand pressing firmly against Jaemin’s lower stomach, keeping him in place.

Jaemin let out a desperate moan, his muscles trembling under the strain. The fullness was overwhelming, bordering on too much, but Mark knew exactly how to turn it into pleasure. His fingers found that sweet spot inside him again, rubbing slow, precise circles against it until Jaemin was a wreck beneath him, his thighs quivering, his cock leaking onto his stomach.

“Ah, Mark,” Jaemin choked out, his voice wrecked. He tried to grind down, to chase more of that overwhelming pleasure, but Mark’s hand kept him pinned.

Mark shot him a glare. “Stay still or I will stop.”

The threat made Jaemin shiver. So he obliged, trying his best to remain still. He was so close, teetering on the edge of something devastating. But before he could get there, Mark pulled his fingers out, leaving him empty and aching.

Jaemin barely had time to process the loss before Mark grabbed his waist and flipped him over with ease. His chest hit the mattress, his knees pressing into the bed, ass lifted as Mark positioned him just how he wanted. A firm hand pressed against the small of his back, keeping him in place.

Mark didn’t move immediately. Instead, he let his cock rest against Jaemin’s hole, the heat and weight of it alone enough to make Jaemin whimper. His breath stuttered, anticipation coiling tight in his gut.

Then, just as Jaemin thought Mark would push in, the warmth disappeared. He let out a frustrated noise, only to hear the unmistakable sound of the bedside drawer opening. A soft rustling followed as Mark retrieved a condom, tearing the foil open with ease.

Jaemin turned his head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of Mark rolling the condom over his cock, his fingers moving with ease like he’d done it thousands of times. The sight sent another pulse of arousal through him. Mark was so fucking meticulous, stretching him open properly, making sure he was prepared, and now taking the extra moment to put on protection. Though, a small part of him had hoped Mark would’ve fucked him raw like he did Jeno. He’d take whatever he could get.

The snap of latex against skin made his breath hitch. Then, Mark’s slicked-up cock was back at his entrance, nudging insistently. A firm grip returned to Jaemin’s waist, grounding him, keeping him exactly where Mark wanted.

“Relax, doll,” Mark said, his voice low.

Jaemin let out a shuddering breath, his fingers gripping the sheets as he felt the heavy weight of Mark’s cock pressing against his stretched hole. The head nudged at his entrance, hot and thick, sending a violent shiver up his spine.

The moment Mark’s cock entered his hole, Jaemin’s mind went blank. His mind became empty. There were no sirens blaring, nothing. And when Mark finally bottomed out, all he could do was cry.

Mark’s cock was different from other men’s he had taken before. Mark’s had the perfect girth that made him feel like he was split in two. Mark’s also had the perfect length that made the tip reach a point where no man had ever reached. Mark was perfect. And Jaemin was high on pleasure.

It didn’t take long for Mark to start moving. He set a slower pace at first, trying to find a rhythm that worked for him. Jaemin felt helpless. His orgasm was already close. He wouldn’t be able to last long.

Mark seemed to know it, too. His fingers dug into Jaemin’s hips, holding him firmly in place as he pulled out slowly, leaving only the tip inside, before slamming back in. The force made Jaemin’s body jolt, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat.

Jaemin felt everything. His walls clenched around Mark’s cock, trying to keep him in, trying to hold onto something solid as his pleasure spiraled higher. But Mark didn’t let him. He kept up his relentless pace, his thrusts deep and precise, hitting that one spot inside Jaemin that made his vision blur.

A choked sob left Jaemin’s lips as Mark’s hand slid up his back before pressing down between his shoulder blades, forcing his chest further into the mattress. The new angle had Jaemin keening, his mouth parting in a silent cry as Mark fucked into him even deeper.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” Mark growled, his voice rough with restraint. “Should’ve fucked you the moment you started lusting over my boyfriend.”

“Mark–” Jaemin’s words died in his throat when Mark hit his prostate again.

He wasn’t going to last. His orgasm was right there, coiling tight in his gut, just waiting to snap.

Jaemin barely had the strength to warn him. “Mark, I’m close.”

“Not yet,” Mark cut him off, his hand squeezing around the base of Jaemin’s cock, holding him back. “You can only come when I tell you to.”

Jaemin let out a desperate, broken sound. He had no choice but to endure it, to take everything Mark gave him. And God, he wanted it all.

“You’re such a greedy bitch, Jaemin. Already got fucked by Jeno, but you still wanted more from me, your own friend,” Mark groaned. “Are you a slut?”

In his mind, Jaemin screamed at himself that he wasn’t a slut. He was just a normal gay man who had two fully functional eyes. Jeno was attractive. He had toned muscles, great body proportions, and a face that resembled a Greek god. Mark was also hella attractive. He’s smart, sexy in different ways from Jeno, and he also had a face that looked like he was favored by God Almighty.

It wasn’t Jaemin’s fault that he was attracted, but maybe it was his fault for wanting to get dicked down by this couple specifically.

Thus, as a response, he whined, “Yes. I am your slut, Mark.”

Mark let out a sharp exhale, his grip on Jaemin’s hips tightening. “That’s right,” he muttered, voice dripping with satisfaction. “My greedy little slut.”

Without warning, Mark’s pace turned brutal. His thrusts became rougher, deeper, his cock slamming into Jaemin’s oversensitive prostate with each snap of his hips. Jaemin’s body jerked under the force of it, his moans turning into broken sobs. He was dangling over the edge, barely clinging onto sanity.

“Come,” Mark finally ordered, and Jaemin shattered.

His orgasm crashed into him violently, ripping a wrecked cry from his throat as pleasure consumed every inch of his being. His cock pulsed in Mark’s fist, come spilling onto the sheets beneath him, his body convulsing with the sheer intensity of it. Stars burst behind his eyes, his limbs trembling as he surrendered completely.

But Mark wasn’t done.

Even as Jaemin’s body twitched with oversensitivity, Mark kept going, fucking him through his orgasm and into something more torturous. Each thrust sent jolts of overstimulation through his nerves, his cock twitching helplessly against the sheets. He whined, body writhing, but Mark didn’t let up.

Jaemin sobbed then, tears slipping down his flushed cheeks, his entire body trembling. “Mark, I’m still–mmh–sensitive.”

“You wanted this,” Mark murmured, his voice thick with exertion. His fingers curled around Jaemin’s throat, tilting his head back just enough to whisper into his ear, “So take it.”

Jaemin let out a choked whimper, his overstimulated body locking up as Mark continued to roll his hips in slow, deliberate thrusts. His muscles were quivering, pleasure and pain blurring together in an overwhelming haze. Every time Mark bottomed out, Jaemin’s walls spasmed around him involuntarily, drawing a deep groan from Mark. His legs felt like they weren’t even his anymore, just limp, useless things beneath him as Mark used his body exactly how he wanted.

Each movement, each drag of Mark’s cock inside him, sent violent shudders up Jaemin’s spine. His nerve endings were fried, his body too sensitive to handle even the smallest of touches. And yet, Mark didn’t stop, not until his own release was torn from him, his hips stuttering as he spilled into the condom with a drawn-out moan.

The weight of Mark’s body settled against Jaemin’s back for a moment, both of them panting, spent. A hand skimmed along Jaemin’s side before Mark carefully pulled out, the sudden emptiness making Jaemin’s hole clench involuntarily. He let out a shuddering breath, his body aching in places he hadn’t even realized could ache. His limbs felt heavy, his muscles twitching in protest.

Mark peeled off the condom, tying it off before tossing it into the nearby bin. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke, the only sounds in the room were their uneven breathing. Then, something shifted.

Mark’s roughness melted away. He pressed a firm but gentle hand against the small of Jaemin’s back, rubbing slow, grounding circles into his damp skin. “I’ll draw a warm bath for you,” he murmured, voice softer now. “You need to clean up.”

Jaemin blinked sluggishly, barely processing the change in Mark’s demeanor. Just minutes ago, Mark had been fucking him rough, pushing him past his limits, and now he was back into his usual sweetness? His mind struggled to keep up, but his body knew better than to fight it. He hummed in response, something that barely passed for a thank you, his voice hoarse.

Mark didn’t wait for more of a response. The bed shifted as he got up, leaving Jaemin lying boneless against the sheets. The loss of warmth made him whine softly, but soon, he heard the sound of water running from the bathroom. The distant gurgle of the tub filling with warm water was almost comforting.

A few moments later, Mark returned. Jaemin barely had the strength to move when Mark placed a gentle hand under his arm, coaxing him up. “Come on,” he said, voice still warm. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

A few moments later, Mark returned. Jaemin barely had the strength to lift his head when he felt strong arms scoop him up with ease. Jaemin let out a soft noise of protest, his limbs too weak to do anything but curl against Mark’s chest as he was lifted off the bed. His heart stuttered at the effortless way Mark carried him, one arm under his knees, the other securely around his back. Bridal style.

“You’re heavier than you look,” Mark muttered, but there was no bite to his words.

Jaemin didn’t have the energy to respond. He let his head fall against Mark’s shoulder, his breath ghosting over warm skin as exhaustion slowly crept in.

By the time Mark stepped into the bathroom, the scent of lavender and steam filled the air. The water was the perfect temperature, the surface rippling gently under the warm glow of the lights.

Mark knelt down carefully, lowering Jaemin into the bath with slow, practiced movements. The moment Jaemin’s sore body hit the water, he sighed in relief, his muscles instantly unwinding.

Mark’s hands lingered, fingers ghosting over Jaemin’s arms before he let go. “Take your time,” he murmured. “I’ll be right outside, okay? And if you’re too tired, we can just skip the quantum mechanics class later on.”

“Okay,” was all that Jaemin could say before Mark disappeared from his line of sight.

A few minutes later, Jaemin emerged from the bathroom in fresh towels that Mark had prepared for him. When he returned to the room, Mark was sitting on his chair with his laptop open on the desk. He was already wearing sweatpants though he didn’t bother covering his upper body. The bedsheets were replaced with fresh ones, and on top of the bed was fresh clothes neatly folded that Jaemin assumed were for him.

Once Jaemin was dressed, he sat on the edge of the bed. Mark glanced up from his laptop, his gaze softening when he saw Jaemin sitting there. He didn’t say anything at first, just studied him, as if assessing whether he was truly okay. Then, without a word, he got up, walking over to Jaemin with that quiet confidence he always carried.

"You good?" Mark finally asked, his voice lower now, almost hesitant.

Jaemin nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure what ‘good’ meant in this context. His body was sore in the best way, his mind still floating somewhere between exhaustion and satisfaction. He felt taken care of. Safe. And, strangely, he liked that.

Mark must have sensed the lingering exhaustion in his silence, because he reached down and ruffled Jaemin’s damp hair before taking a seat beside him. The warmth of Mark’s body radiated close, grounding him.

“I changed the sheets while you were in the bath,” Mark said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “Figured you’d want to rest in something clean.”

Jaemin swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. The thoughtful gesture made something inside him twist.

“Thanks,” Jaemin muttered, staring down at his hands.

Mark only hummed in response. A few beats of silence passed before he nudged Jaemin’s thigh with his own.

“You should sleep a bit,” he said. “We can figure out class later.”

Jaemin exhaled slowly. He should sleep, but part of him didn’t want to be alone just yet. “Can you stay?” The words left his lips before he could overthink them.

Mark blinked, but then he gave Jaemin a lazy smirk. “Didn’t get enough of me already?”

Jaemin groaned, shoving at Mark’s arm weakly. “Shut up.”

Mark only chuckled, shaking his head before getting up to turn off the bedroom light. “Alright, come on,” he said, pulling back the covers. “Get in.”

Jaemin hesitated for half a second before crawling under the fresh sheets. Mark slipped in beside him, letting his back pressed against Mark’s chest, and as soon as he did, warmth cocooned Jaemin from all sides.

“Is Jeno okay with us cuddling?” Jaemin only had the mind to ask when Mark’s arm already slid over his torso.

Mark chuckled at the question. “Sure. I wouldn’t do it if he wasn’t.”

“Oh,” Jaemin cleverly muttered. “Do you do this a lot?”

“What? Invite someone else into our bed?”

Jaemin swallowed, “Yeah.”

For a moment, silence loomed over them. Mark seemed to think about his answers. When Jaemin opened his mouth to take his question back, Mark answered.

“Once or twice, yes. Usually strangers, though. Never a friend.”

After hearing the answer, Jaemin didn’t have anything to say. Based on the answer, it was implied that this was a one-time thing. He shouldn’t be disappointed, but he was. Jaemin stared at the dim glow of the bedside lamp, thoughts circling in his mind like vultures. His body ached in a way that would remind him of this night for days, but that wasn’t what unsettled him the most. It was the gnawing uncertainty of what came next.

He and Mark had always been close. He spent his Thursday free time here, lazing around in Mark and Jeno’s apartment like he belonged. But could he still do that now? Now that Jeno had his way with him? Now that Mark had fucked him?

The thought of losing that familiarity made his stomach twist. He wasn’t particularly close to Jeno, but at least they were civil. And Mark. Mark was the constant one, the one who accompanied him throughout his university days. But what if this changed things? What if he’d already crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed?

His chest felt tight. Would he have to find somewhere else to go on Thursdays? Would Mark stop inviting him over?

Before his thoughts could spiral further, Mark suddenly spoke, voice quiet but firm. “Don’t be weird about this, Jaemin.”

Jaemin stiffened, caught off guard. “What?”

Mark’s arm was still draped over him. “You’re overthinking. I can feel it.”

Jaemin exhaled sharply, shifting under the sheets. “I just...” He hesitated. “Are we still gonna be friends after this?”

Mark scoffed like the answer was obvious. “Of course.”

Jaemin swallowed. “Even with Jeno?”

“Yeah,” Mark said easily. “Jeno doesn’t mind. You don’t have to act all awkward around him. Around me.”

Jaemin bit his lip. “But I–”

Mark cut him off with a lazy chuckle. “If you want, you can ask either of us to fuck you again.”

Jaemin’s breath caught.

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” Mark continued. “We can be friends with benefits. No drama, no strings. Just fun.”

Jaemin turned his head slightly, trying to gauge if Mark was serious. But the weight of Mark’s arm over him, the way his fingers casually traced circles on Jaemin’s stomach, told him he was.

Friends with benefits. It was tempting. Jaemin should say no.

Instead, he found himself whispering, “Okay.”

Mark shifted again, this time pressing a little closer, his fingers dragging absentmindedly along Jaemin’s side. “Get some rest,” he murmured.

Jaemin exhaled, forcing himself to relax. “Yeah,” he whispered back.

But as he lay there, eyes open in the dark, he wasn’t sure if sleep would come at all.