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In Mark’s defense, it’s not like he had any idea what a gay bachelor party was supposed to be like.
He supposed he’d expected something more classical and reserved. It’s Renjun, after all, the Renjun who wears cashmere sweaters in July and has monthly passes to the city youth orchestra. He was imagining something nice and relaxed, with wine involved, the sort of gentle affair Mark knows and loves with Renjun.
But it was the best man, Donghyuck, who planned the party. Maybe that should have been the warning sign. There was no way in hell Donghyuck would ever want a nice night in, not for Renjun’s last big blowout before being tied down to marriage for life.
So, like, maybe Mark should have seen this coming, and by ‘this’ he means the fact that he’s currently watching Renjun drinking straight out of a bottle of red wine while dancing on Donghyuck’s kitchen table to Britney Spears. At least Mark was right about the wine, but considering that this is after they’ve all returned from a crawl across three different clubs, it doesn’t feel as special.
“I wonder what Jaemin’s party is like,” Yangyang says, Mark’s only straight comrade at this deliberately homosexual event. He’s drinking a White Claw, slumped in the armchair across from Mark.
Jisung had taken on the responsibility of planning that party–so Mark assumes it’s either going very well or very poorly, especially considering that Doyoung with all his worrywart micromanagement will be in attendance. To be honest, Mark isn’t sure where he’d rather be, but he’s always known Renjun better anyway, and it’s not like he isn’t having fun. He’s just worried Renjun might fall off the table and break a hip.
Donghyuck plops down on the couch next to Mark. “Mark,” he says, in the tone of voice he tends to use when he’s really drunk but pretending that he’s not, “Mark, I need you to help me out. I have a surprise for Renjun.”
Mark looks at Donghyuck, wide eyed and also just excited to finally do something useful—the only thing he’s contributed to this party is being the only one who is for the most part sober. He had one beer at the first club, and then decided to be the good samaritan for the night when he noticed just how many shots Donghyuck was ordering. He feels bad, because he hasn’t really been keeping up with his groomsman duties, just trailing along after Donghyuck as he’s always done.
“What do you need me to do?” Mark asks, making sure to whisper. Renjun is now off the kitchen table, busying himself with turning the music up even louder as he makes himself a sloppy cocktail out of what he can find in Donghyuck’s fridge.
“There’s a special guest downstairs,” Donghyuck whispers. “I need you to let him in while I make sure Renjun doesn’t drink something he shouldn’t.” He presses his keyring into Mark’s hand, with its obnoxiously huge League of Legends keychain and all.
“What kind of guest?” Mark asks, but Donghyuck already has stood up and is busy yelling something at Renjun about how No, that’s soy sauce, don’t drink that, and the one thing Mark has learned from his years of friendship with Donghyuck is that at some point, you just have to stop asking questions.
“Want me to come with?“ Yangyang asks.
“I think I’ll be fine,” Mark says, with a half-hearted thumbs up.
As he runs down the winding flight of stairs from Donghyuck’s fourth-floor apartment down to the main level, he runs over who this special guest might be in his head. Renjun’s interests aren’t very bachelor-party-esque, mostly centering around art galleries and guilty pleasure reality TV and birdwatching.
So when Mark stumbles into the lobby, he’s not really sure what he’s expecting—but it’s certainly not a man with model-perfect looks, dressed like a fireman, holding a boombox under his arm. Despite the bulky jacket and pants and the helmet, he looks sort of like a lost puppy, shifting on his feet. When he notices Mark, he looks up and grins.
God. If that isn’t the most handsome man Mark has ever seen in his life.
“Are you Donghyuck?” the fireman asks. “We talked on the phone? I’m Jeno.”
When he steps closer, Mark can see that his collarbones are glistening, like they’ve been slathered in oil. Mark didn’t even think men this handsome existed anywhere outside of fashion magazines, and yet here one is, right before him, and Mark is, well—staring. And being very rude.
He blinks, and shakes his head. “I’m, uh, Donghyuck’s friend, actually. Are you the… special guest?”
“I guess I am,” the fireman, Jeno, says, and his face breaks into a smile that makes his eyes crinkle into tiny crescents.
Mark takes a slow second to try to figure this whole thing out. Sexy fireman. Special guest. Up close, Mark can see that his helmet is made of cheap plastic and that his jacket and pants probably wouldn’t stand a chance against an actual fire. Most firemen do not come slathered in oil, and it’s a bachelor party so—
“Oh,” Mark says, gawking at Jeno, “You’re a stripper.”
Jeno laughs, a soft giggle that doesn’t seem to befit his presence. “Did you think I was an actual fireman?”
“No, I… I dunno. Damn. Never met a male stripper. That’s dope. Cool, cool.” Mark sticks out his hand, palms sweating. “I’m Mark, b-t-w.”
Jeno’s nose scrunches with a smile, and then he takes Mark’s hand in his. His grip is so firm—Christ, Mark thinks, this is a prime specimen of a man. The kind of guy Mark wishes he could be. He even can spot pierced ears and a cool tattoo on his chest, two things Mark always has wished he could do but has never quite been bold enough to try.
Jeno looks up and down Mark’s body, and Mark feels a little judged. He really hopes this interaction isn’t some kind of underlying judgemental masculinity contest, because first of all, that’s dated and problematic, and Mark also would definitely lose.
“You, uh, like the bachelorette’s sister or something?” Jeno asks.
“Bachelor,” blurts out Mark, eager to correct before Jeno gets the wrong idea. Of course Donghyuck didn’t give out the proper details. “Actually, it’s a bachelor party. For like, a gay guy. Hope that’s cool.” Jeno’s expression is unreadable, but he nods slowly as Mark speaks. “I mean, like I’m not gay. Or the bachelor. It’s for my friend. But I’m like, so down with gay people, hopefully you are too, I mean–”
“It’s fine.” Jeno makes that same smile he did earlier that curves his eyes into tiny crescents. “I’m actually gay myself. I just don’t get a lot of gay customers.”
Mark stares, feeling a rush of heat to his face. “Oh. Cool. I love–gay friends.”
“Yup,” Jeno says. Mark can tell he’s trying to stifle laughter, and so he looks down at the floor in mild humiliation.
“Sorry I’m a little frazzled,” Mark tries to explain. “I uh, didn’t even know Donghyuck got a stripper. He just said there was a special guest. Just, you know. The middleman.” A pause, and he makes eye contact with Jeno. “Dang. We probably should just go upstairs, huh?”
Jeno laughs again, and this time it matches his deep voice better. “Yeah, yeah we should.”
Flustered from having thoroughly embarrassed himself, Mark turns around to lead Jeno back to the elevator. It’s notoriously slow, but he doesn’t want to force Jeno to take the stairs and leave him even more sweaty and glistening than he already is—though maybe that’s a good thing?
As they wait for the elevator to reach the lobby floor, Mark tries not to think too hard about how in about fifteen minutes, he’s going to be seeing this guy wearing 90% less clothes and grinding all over his friend’s lap. Is it rude to ask if he plans to take everything off? What’s even the appropriate male stripper etiquette? How much of a right does he have to get mad at Donghyuck for sending him down to meet a male stripper with no prior warning?
The elevator opens with a soft ding, and the two of them step inside. Mark makes sure to stand on the opposite wall to Jeno, who is humming softly to himself, cradling his boombox in his arms like a baby.
“Why a fireman?” Mark says, curiosity sending the words out of his mouth before he can stop them.
“Huh?” Jeno looks down at his outfit, and then back up at Mark, shrugging. “It’s just my most popular outfit. This was kind of a short notice hire anyway, so I just came in what I was wearing to the party right before this, I guess.”
“Cool, cool. Wow. So you do multiple parties in one night?”
“As many as I can. Gotta pay for school somehow, right?” Jeno kicks a foot against the elevator’s carpeted floor. “This is the last one for tonight, though. Figured I could squeeze in an extra one since I don’t have to study tonight.”
“Oh. You’re a student.”
“Yup! Architecture. Got into a pretty good program at a really nice school and everything, but my parents can’t really afford it, so…”
The elevator dings right in time with the pang of guilt that strikes Mark in the heart. Jeno keeps smiling as they head down the hall, and Mark tries his best to combine the images of a sexy male stripper and a hardworking, debt-ridden student in his head.
“Hey.” Mark pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, and yanks out a twenty dollar bill with some struggle, dropping the Ben & Jerry’s coupon he’s been saving since 2017 on the floor in the process. Jeno gives him an odd look, and Mark takes his boombox-free hand to press the bill into the palm. “Uh, that’s my tip. Just paid off my loans, and uh, I know it’s tough. Figure you won’t be like, doing your stuff for me, right, but you definitely deserve the tip.”
Jeno’s eyes widen, staring down at the money in his hand in surprise. It’s so cute that Mark is overcome by the urge to squeeze Jeno extremely hard like he’s a stress ball, and he has to suppress himself.
“Thank you,” Jeno says, his voice soft.
Mark shoves his hands in his pockets, deeply embarrassed. All the threads of conversation exhausted, he chooses to just guide Jeno down the hall.
“It’s this apartment right here,” Mark says, right as Donghyuck swings open the door with impeccable timing, welcoming the noise of high-volume Kim Petras into the quiet hallway.
“Ah! You look even better than your picture!” Donghyuck exclaims. “Are you Jeno?”
Jeno folds up the twenty and tucks it delicately into the pocket of his fireman pants. “I am. You’re Donghyuck, then?”
Donghyuck looks up and down Jeno’s body, making the same grin he does when a waitress places his plate of food in front of him. “Sure am. Wanna talk stuff out?” He turns to Mark, and makes a shooing motion with his hand. “Thanks, Mark. You can leave us. The adults are talking.”
Suddenly shy, Mark ducks back into the party, with one last glance at Jeno, considering this is probably the last time he’ll see him clothed. Jeno waves at him and mouths Thank you, the corners of his lips curling up cutely.
As soon as Mark enters into Donghyuck’s living room, he’s accosted by a drunken Renjun, who wraps his arms around Mark and makes a wailing noise into his shoulder. Whatever cocktail he was making when Mark left, he’s already finished.
“Mark,” he whines dramatically, “What if Jaemin leaves me at the altar?”
“He’s not gonna do that,” Mark says, giving Renjun a half hearted pat on the back. Usually, he’s the one squeezing Renjun so hard he has to beg for air, so it's an odd experience being on the receiving end for once. “Jaemin loves you, man. I don’t think there’s anything in the world he likes more than you. You’re just nervous.” He pauses. “We already had this conversation two hours ago, man.”
“I guess you’re right,” Renjun sighs, somehow satisfied.
“Dude, cheer up. Donghyuck says he prepared a surprise for you.”
Donghyuck bursts into the living room right as Mark says this, waving his hands excitedly. If Mark peers down the hallway to the entryway, he can see Jeno’s silhouette waiting there patiently.
“Renjun, Renjun,” Donghyuck says, buzzing with excitement, “Sit.” He rushes to turn off the music playing and pulls out a chair in the center of the room and pats the seat expectantly, waiting for Renjun to sit down.
“Good lord, Donghyuck,” Renjun says with a sigh, taking a drunken step to the chair, “What in God’s name have you done this time?”
“As we all know,” Donghyuck says, putting two firm hands on Renjun’s shoulders, “Our dear Renjunnie is leaving the single life behind–”
“I’ve been dating Jaemin for 6 years, dipshit.”
“-and I wanted to give him one last taste of hedonism before he succumbs to the white-picket fence lifestyle forever. So without further ado… I present the special entertainer for tonight… Jeno!” Donghyuck raises a hand in the air, and then gives a dramatic snap.
There’s a pause of dead air for a second, before suddenly a loud bass line blasts from Donghyuck’s entryway and Jeno charges in the room, carrying the boombox on his shoulder.
“Did someone call the fireman? Because it looks like it’s about to get a little hot in here!” He tears off the jacket, and throws it to the floor, where it lands on top of Yangyang’s pristine designer shoes.
“Christ almighty,” says Renjun, red all over his face, though Mark half suspects it’s mostly from how drunk he is. “When I said get me a stripper, I was joking, Hyuck!”
“Come on. You don’t want a lapdance from an extremely hot hunk for one last time?”
Renjun shifts his eyes to the side bashfully. “Well… Okay. Just one dance. For the novelty of it.”
The entire party breaks into cheers at this, all watching with enraptured expressions. It is a party full of gay men and Yangyang, after all.
Jeno sets the boombox on Renjun’s coffee table. Mark is just watching from the couch, and he can’t help but be enthralled by the complete change in Jeno’s personality and demeanor. When Mark had met him in the lobby, he’d had this sort of floppy, dopey handsomeness surrounding him, but now—he’s got the aura of a proper performer, a charismatic grin on his face.
Damn, Mark thinks, maybe being a male stripper takes a lot more effort than I thought.
“I’ve never seen a male stripper in my life before,” Yangyang says in awe.
“Mmh, I have, but I like this one better than the last one I saw,” comments Ten, who has suddenly appeared behind Yangyang. He sips his White Claw thoughtfully as Jeno peels off the tight tank top he’s wearing, inch by inch, Donghyuck hooting and hollering.
Renjun still can’t seem to stop blushing, but the raw look of excitement on his face is a pretty sharp contrast to the way he was whining into Mark’s shoulder minutes earlier. The image of Renjun—demure, practiced and put together Renjun who always makes sure to tuck his shirts in and cuff his jeans—being approached by a male stripper is almost surreal.
And Christ, Jeno without a shirt is something else. Mark was already aware of his handsomeness, it’s hard not to notice when you’re within twenty feet of his face, but — his body. Obviously, male strippers must have to stay fit, but the way Jeno is built, with the six-pack abs and the biceps and pecs, it’s on another level. Mark finds himself most drawn to Jeno’s waist, a tiny tapered thing that seems delicate compared to the rest of his bulky form.
He blinks. Jeno is approaching Renjun, who has joined in now with the hooting and hollering, and is peeling off his pants. Chenle is in the corner filming, because of course he is. As Jeno’s tightly packed briefs come into view, Mark feels a strange panic rising in his chest, like he’s not sure what to do, if he’s allowed to be watching this without being judged by some higher moral counsel. The last time he felt like this was when Jaemin and Renjun had sex in Mark and Renjun’s shared dorm room when they thought Mark was asleep. Or maybe it was the time he watched gay porn just to like, see what it was like, and he got a boner and was so embarrassed about it that he banned himself from jerking off for a week.
Jeno is now straddling Renjun, muscled thighs and bulge in full view, and he’s guiding one of Renjun’s hands to touch his chest. Mark should look away, or pretend to get a new drink, but instead, his eyes cannot seem to tear themselves away from the lines of Jeno’s pelvis and how they dip into the waistband of his briefs.
Renjun’s hands are cupping Jeno’s pecs, and then tracing down his abs in a steady, slow manner, like he intends to really take his time with it.
“This is crazy!” Renjun exclaims, laughing in astonishment as the music crescendos, but he doesn’t seem to want the whole thing to end. Jeno just grins back down at Renjun, his eyes doing the soft crinkly thing.
“I want one next,” Ten says.
“No way. I paid. Dibs,” Donghyuck spits back.
“It’s my party!” Renjun turns around to exclaim, but then Jeno grabs one of his hands and guides it to his ass and Renjun makes a choked noise like there’s a very small bird stuck in his throat. Mark watches in wonderment, considering if there’s a way to get around to a good angle so he can watch the groping in action. He’s just… curious.
“Enjoying the show?” a voice whispers into his ear, and Mark curses in surprise, jumping a little. Donghyuck has suddenly appeared behind him, despite Mark being sure he was standing across the room mere seconds ago.
“It’s uh–” Mark flusters. “It’s very interesting. Kind of, um, artistic.”
“Artistic, huh?” Donghyuck remarks, right as Jeno grinds his crotch right up in Renjun’s face and Renjun squeals the same way he does when he sees a cute dog on the street. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Well what do you want me to say!” Mark’s face must be a matching shade of red to Renjun at this point, with the way the heat in his chest is rising to his face.
“You know,” Donghyuck announces, loud enough to be heard over the music, which seems to just be finishing, “I think Mark should get the next lapdance.”
Everyone’s eyes, including Jeno’s, turn to Mark, and every possible word he could say exits his brain. “Ha. What?” is all that comes out instead.
Yangyang does his awkward guffaw and Chenle cackles, aiming his phone camera in Mark’s direction. Jeno is crawling off Renjun’s lap, and turning towards where Mark sits on the couch.
“If he’s comfortable with it,” Jeno says, the sweet smile on his face a confusing image to pair with the massive oiled-up chest below. Mark is going to have a heart attack.
“I’m–totally comfortable–I mean like, it’s your job, man, and, uh—” he glances at Renjun, thinking maybe he’ll be upset with the idea, but Renjun is giving the same sort of conniving grin everyone else in the room is. “It’s cool. I’ll do it. If everyone wants me to do it so bad. You know. Do it for the vine, like they say. Haha.”
Jeno presses a button on the boombox, and the song changes, something more smooth and sensual. “I’ll give any hot guy a lapdance if he wants it, straight or not,” he says, and Mark’s brain flatlines for approximately 5 seconds as everyone in the room cheers.
“Hot guy?” Mark sputters, and suddenly Jeno is approaching him, far, far less clothed than he was when Mark first met him in the lobby not too long ago. That chest tattoo is in full view now, a wolf clenching a rose between its teeth. Bad-ass. “Your tattoo,” Mark says hoarsely, as Jeno straddles him with those extra-toned thighs, “is super dope.”
“Really,” Jeno says. He rests his arms on Mark’s shoulder, and the instincts Mark has built from years of making out with girls at parties kick in, naturally guiding his hands to Jeno’s tiny, tiny waist. “I’ve got tattoos in other places, too, you know.”
Donghyuck, who is still standing way too close for Mark’s comfort, whoops loudly. Mark’s whole face feels like a volcano, so red-hot it could explode any second. Jeno is so, so close to him, and he smells like coconuts and oil and sweat, but in a way that Mark doesn’t really mind. When was the last time he was this close to someone wearing this little clothing?
Jeno starts to move to the music—the control he has over his hips is immaculate. Mesmerizing, even. With him this close, Mark isn’t sure where to look, just focusing on gripping on Jeno’s waist like he might run away if he lets go.
Jeno leans down closer, and Mark can feel the burn of his hot breath on his ear. “You can touch me wherever you like, by the way.” His hand loops around Mark’s wrist, and drags it behind his back.
Mark looks at Jeno’s face, the long eyelashes that fall against his cheeks and the tiny mole and the sharp bridge of his nose—fuck, he’s handsome, pretty, even—and notices a dusting of pink across his cheeks. Despite all his forwardness, Jeno is blushing, and for some reason, this is the thing that really gets Mark’s heart racing. He’s too high on this moment to act in a manner that is logical or aligned with how he’s acted his whole life, so he grabs Jeno’s ass.
Fuck it.
Chenle shrieks from pure excitement at this development, but Mark barely notices it, too engrossed in the feeling of Jeno’s tight, toned muscle, right under the palm of his hand. It’s not like touching a girl’s ass, at all, but Mark still likes it—a lot.
Jeno grinds down on Mark’s lap, and one of his hands cups the back of Mark’s head. Mark can’t think, can’t take his eyes off the sight in front of him, and he wants everyone else in the room to disappear. To let it fade away to just him and Jeno, so that they can—he stops his own thought in the middle of finding his finger hooking into Jeno’s waistband.
Shit. Is Mark into Jeno? Is Mark into guys?
Then, the second thought, which quickly becomes a very pressing issue: having Jeno on his lap like this, grinding against him, touching him, breathing hot and heavy in his ear, it’s all sending fiery-hot sparks down to his gut, and Mark is getting hard. Fast. The kind of insta-boner he hasn’t had to deal with since his early days of puberty. And unfortunately, Jeno is right there, planted right on his lap, bare skin repeatedly brushing up against all parts of Mark, and there’s no way he won’t notice.
Jeno looks down, just for a moment, right at Mark’s crotch, and he huffs out a quiet laugh that travels up Mark’s spine right into the most shameful parts of his brain.
“Sorry,” Mark croaks, and he drags a hand up along Jeno’s washboard abs. He can still hear people laughing and cheering all around them, but he can only seem to focus on the noise of Jeno’s heavy breathing.
“Don’t be sorry,” Jeno says, with a tremble to his voice, and he cracks a grin. “Means I’m doing my job right.”
Mark just nods, mouth open in awe as he watches Jeno move, and he’s just about to go for it and grab one of Jeno’s pecs in his hand like Renjun did when the song playing ends.
Reality returns full-stop There are people watching as Mark has a full-on sexual awakening with a naked man on his lap. Everyone is watching, because they all think it’s funny to watch heterosexual Mark Lee deal with a male stripper, and yet all Mark can think is that he’s never been this fucking horny in his life.
“Okay,” Jeno says, breathless, and he steps off Mark’s lap. “I’m booked for fifteen more minutes. Who’s next?”
There’s more uproarious cheering as everyone argues over who deserves to be Jeno’s next customer, and suddenly Mark is just sitting there, with a boner and empty hands grasping at thin air.
“I—” Mark says. “Woah.”
A hand pats the top of his head, and Mark turns to see Donghyuck still behind him, an evil grin on his face.
“You’re a mess,” Donghyuck says.
“I need—to pee,” Mark sputters, and he stands up, pushing through several people en route to the bathroom. He passes Jeno, who’s just about to situate his near-naked body on top of Ten’s, and it feels like his eyes are burning right into his skin.
He finds his way into Renjun’s bathroom, slamming the door shut so that the Megan Thee Stallion song blasting from Jeno’s boombox for his next routine turns into muted noise. How did Mark even deal with surprise boners back in high school? He runs the faucet, turning on the cold water and letting it splash over his fingers.
A glimpse at his reflection reveals just how flustered he looks: his face is bright red, and his glasses have fallen down the bridge of his nose, giving him a perpetually dumbfounded expression. He’s blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. He feels sticky with guilt and burning sexual desire, like he’s indulged in something totally forbidden.
There’s nothing wrong with being gay, in fact, almost all of Mark’s friends are. It’s just not something Mark ever considered for himself—he likes girls. He likes how soft girls are, pretty and sweet, and yet, when he thinks about the way Jeno’s toned body had felt under his fingertips, the way his ass looked in those way-too-small briefs, heat pools immediately in his gut.
Mark debates his options as he splashes cold water on his face, rubbing it over his cheeks like it’ll somehow cool the flush away. Rubbing one out in Donghyuck’s bathroom right before Renjun’s big day seems both rude and an overstepping of boundaries on multiple levels.
He thinks of everything possible to drive the unforgiving horniness away: going to church with his grandma, dirty dishes, the smell of Jaemin’s unwashed socks. It doesn’t work, because each time Mark squeezes his eyes shut to picture these things, his brain just returns to the image of Jeno’s tiny waist in Mark’s hands, or the sensation of his breath on Mark’s ear. At this rate, Mark can’t go back out there, into the room where Jeno is grinding on Ten’s lap to Money Good, because he might just jizz his pants.
Maybe Mark should just sit here on his phone until Jeno leaves, because he isn’t even sure how to look him in the eyes anyway. Sure, Jeno seemed… pleased, or maybe amused, by Mark’s little development during the lapdance, but what if he secretly thinks Mark is a creep? Maybe flirting is just an example of good customer service in the male stripper world.
There’s a pounding on the bathroom door, and Mark jumps, almost dropping his glasses into the sink. “Anyone in there?” a voice asks. Mark is pretty sure it’s Junhui, one of Renjun’s work friends that he refuses to ever introduce to everyone else because he thinks Donghyuck & Co. will embarrass him. “I really gotta piss.”
“I’ll be right out!” Mark croaks. He needs a drink, fuck being the good sober one for the night. Untucking his shirt to hide the boner, he reaches over and flushes the toilet in the hope that it’ll seem somehow convincing that he really did just have to pee. He runs cold water over his hands one last time, and then bursts open the door with an awkward laugh.
Sure enough, Junhui is standing right there, and Mark tries to offer him a casual nod. Junhui just side-eyes him and steps into the bathroom. Drying his hands on the front of his jeans, Mark returns to the scene in the living room.
Jeno is planted on Donghyuck’s lap now, and Mark can see he’s got several bills of cash tucked into the waistband of his briefs. A bizarre sensation arises in Mark’s gut—a curdle of jealousy. He wants it to be his hand, not Donghyuck’s, planted on the firm curve of Jeno’s ass. He wants to experience that rush again, of a pretty sculpted boy planted right on his lap just for him to touch.
Mark stumbles to the kitchen, determined to get away and get a drink. His head is buzzing, trying to rationalize all this, the heady sensation in his chest of want. He reaches into the fridge and finds a can of White Claw, pressing it against his forehead just to get the cold metal to cool him down.
He sinks down on the floor, and gets out his phone, opening up the search bar to type some important questions.
> boner from dude?
> not gay but guy gave me boner
> male strippers in my area
> rent male stripper cost
> how to tell if you’re gay
> does having gay friends make you gay
> gay sex how-to
Nothing is returning what Mark is looking for. He’s squinting at a helpful diagram of a man sliding his fingers inside another man’s butthole when someone flicks his forehead, hard, and he yelps so loud he almost spills his White Claw all over Renjun’s nice kitchen floors.
It’s Renjun himself, who looks down at him and then his phone screen, trying to hold back laughter. Mark stares back up at him in wide-eyed shame,
“Mark,” says Renjun, squatting down in front of him like Mark is a pitiful stray cat, “do you have something you want to share with me?”
“No,” Mark says, lying. “It’s your party, you should get back out there.”
“You’re wearing that expression you have when you’re getting all worked up about something. Like you’re having an argument in your head with yourself.”
“I’m fine.” Mark puts his warm face in his hands. “Weren’t you the one getting all worked up over your big day not too long ago?”
“Oh, I got over that.” Renjun sighs. “I got more interested in you and your little friend.” He punctuates this with a meaningful glance at Mark’s groin.
Mark groans. “Listen—don’t make fun of me, okay? I don’t even know what’s happening to me right now.”
“Just give him your number.” Renjun stands back up, and pats Mark on the head, smiling to himself with a kind of drunken mischief Mark will probably never see again. “Gay little Markie,” he says, pleased.
“It’s not that simple,” Mark laments, and Renjun responds with a shrug.
“Maybe it is.”
Mark swallows. Maybe it is that simple. Maybe he just follows whatever he wants tonight, and if he regrets it, he regrets it. At least he can live without doubt.
The music playing in the living room stops again, and everyone cheers.
“That’s my time,” Mark hears Jeno say, and he stands up with a start. He fumbles in his back pocket for his wallet, and lopes into the living room awkwardly.
Jeno is busy giving curt little bows and collecting tips from other enthusiastic guests, picking up the discarded fireman clothing on the floor. When he sees Mark, he beams, eyes curving again.
Mark blinks, giving an awkward smile back, his stomach curdling. He’s never had this much trouble approaching a girl before—it’s always been easy. And he knew what he wanted. This time, he’s got no clue, and something about that rips excitement up his spine.
“How much do I owe you?” Donghyuck asks as Renjun’s bachelor party playlist returns on the speakers and people get back to drinking and talking and laughing at blurry phone photos of Jeno’s crotch in their faces.
Mark’s legs don’t want to move. It’s like they’re trapped in blocks of ice, keeping him rooted to the ground. He’s sobered up, mostly, but the anxiety is burning up inside his stomach. What is he thinking, trying to proposition a male stripper? For what? A date? A one night stand? A boner explanation?
Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he’s attracted to you, idiot.
Okay, but he did call you hot, right?
Here he goes with the arguments in his head again. Renjun really is right about everything, unfortunately.
Mark grits his teeth, the indecision tearing him up inside. He can spot Chenle side-eyeing him from the corner of the room, which only serves to make him even more conflicted. The fact that everyone is watching Mark have a real-time sexuality crisis is embarrassing enough, the fact that it’s over a stripper is even worse.
He flicks open his wallet, checking the wad of cash inside. What if he just asked Jeno to stay another fifteen minutes? Just another lapdance. To see if Mark has the same reaction or if he was just caught up in the moment. That makes sense, right? And it would be for Renjun. Like a gift. For the party.
He inhales, looks up, and realizes Jeno is gone.
He was standing next to Donghyuck just moments ago, but suddenly he’s disappeared. Somehow this is what gets Mark’s feet unstuck from the ice, a raw motivation overtaking him as he remembers Renjun’s words and tears down the hallway to chase after Jeno.
Mark can hear Donghyuck’s astonished guffaw of laughter as he jogs past, but he can’t bring himself to care. All Mark wants is to grab this handsome, pretty, specimen of a boy and say “I think I might be attracted to you!” and be done with it, even if it ruins his life forever. He needs to yank the tangled mess of sensations and emotions in the bottom of his stomach out and spill them all over the floor, for just a second.
Or maybe he just really needs to bust a nut. He doesn’t even know anymore.
Healing Donghyuck’s front door clicking shut, Mark considers turning around and just giving up, but he pushes through it. He swings open the door, bursting into the quiet hallways of Donghyuck’s apartment building, and he sees Jeno, about to get into the elevator. The doors are closing in on his handsome pretty boy face, and his fireman’s jacket is resting on his bare shoulders.
They make eye contact, and Mark tries to say something super cool and suave, but all that comes out is a weak “Hey.”
Jeno tilts his head to the side, like a curious dog, and then sticks his hand out to catch the elevator door. “Did I forget something?” he asks. There’s a light smile on his face, a little teasing. It makes the inside of Mark’s ribcage tickle.
“Yeah, uh, well.. No. Maybe?” Mark steps closer, and then as the elevator doors open back up, he steps in with Jeno. “Actually, it’s more like I forgot something, I guess?” He scratches the back of his head awkwardly.
Jeno looks at him, and Mark isn’t sure if he’s weirded out by this or maybe into it. Leaning against the railing of the elevator, Mark looks at his shoes and prepares his next move.
“I wanted to um, give you my number. Because I think I’m attracted to you,” he blusters.
“You think?” Jeno says, a laugh in his voice.
“Well, I dunno man…” Mark feels like he's about to get on a rollercoaster with the raw adrenaline coursing through him. “I’ve just—never—felt this way about a dude before.”
“Mm. Lots of guys tell me that,” Jeno replies.
Mark’s stomach pits with anxiety, and he feels suddenly like an utter idiot. Not that he didn’t feel like one before, but this is even worse. He’s just being a weird creep, the kind of weird creep that Jeno must have to deal with every day in his line of work.
“Sorry, I—I knew it was weird. I should just go.” Mark mumbles. The elevator has reached the ground floor, and the doors swing open with a ding. He's just about ready to make a beeline for the stairs back up so he can go and drown his woes in White Claw, when Jeno closes the distance between them.
It takes a bit of courage for Mark to actually look Jeno in the eyes, and when he does—he’s surprised. Jeno is chewing on his bottom lip, a pink flush on his cheeks that makes him seem so innocent. His eyes shift to the side, avoiding Mark’s.
“It’s just rare that those guys are ever as cute as you,” Jeno says, and Mark’s heart starts jackrabbiting out of his chest.
“Oh,” Mark says. “Dope. Ha.” He fumbles in his back pocket for his phone. “So the number then—”
Jeno grabs Mark’s wrist, and with an insistent tug, he leads the both of them out of the elevator. “I’m parked down the street,” he says, voice like a whisper, “in a really quiet spot. And ever since you developed that little… problem,” he offers a quick glance down at Mark’s crotch, and then leans in close so that his breath dusts Mark’s ear just like the lapdance earlier— “I’ve really wanted to put your dick in my mouth.”
Mark freezes in place. It takes his brain a few moments to even catch up with Jeno’s words, and Jeno is using his thumb to rub against Mark’s wrist-bone as he looks at the floor.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to, maybe that’s too forward for a straight dude—”
“I want to,” Mark interrupts with an almost teenage level of enthusiasm. “I would really really like that.”
—
When Mark gets with Jeno into his sedan, fumbling into the front passenger seat and attempting to push it back as far as it goes, he wonders if he’s maybe gone a little crazy. What kind of horny idiot gets in a strangers car, for a blowjob, much less from someone of the same sex despite never having that interest before? ut then he looks at Jeno, who’s crawling onto his lap with his hair in his eyes and his bare shoulders showing. He’s made the right choice.
“You’ve really never been with another guy before?” Jeno asks, inches from Mark’s face.
“Nope,” Mark says, his sweaty palms slipping against the seats of Jeno’s car. He takes the initiative to wrap his arms around Jeno’s shoulders instead. “Guess I’m like, a gay virgin. Haha.”
Jeno smiles his fluffy, soft smile. That tiny beauty mark by his eye is so distracting, like a tiny star. Jeno is beautiful, but still so different from any girl Mark’s ever hooked up with—sharp edges along his jaw and the slope of his nose, well-defined muscle. He likes it far more than he should.
“I’ll try to make sure to make your first experience one to remember, then,” Jeno says, and before Mark can stutter out a reply, he presses their lips together.
Mark isn’t sure what exactly he imagined his first kiss with a man to be like. Not that he’d ever expected to have one before tonight. To his surprise, it’s just the same as kissing a girl, but Mark’s riding the high of a slight tipsiness and the thrill of delving into unknown sexual territory, so it feels a million times better. Jeno kisses like he means it, too, tongue in Mark’s mouth immediately, and his face keeps knocking against Mark’s glasses.
“Hey,” Jeno says, his fingers fumbling to pull Mark’s glasses off, “You can still see me fine if I take these off, right?”
Mark blinks. With the glasses gone, he still can see every detail of Jeno’s face, down to the flush across his nose and the way his own spit shines on Jeno’s lips. He nods.
“Yeah. Why?”
“‘Cause I want you to be able to watch me when I do this,” Jeno says, and then he gets down off Mark’s lap so he can sit on the car floor between Mark’s legs. He grabs at Mark’s thighs, face pressing up against his very present hard-on.
Mark makes a choked noise when Jeno suddenly bites at the zipper of his pants, and in a move that Mark only thought was possible in porn—pulls it down with his teeth.
“Dude,” Mark says, stunned, and he can feel the vibration of Jeno’s low laugh against his dick. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Practice,” Jeno says, pleased, and with little patience, he yanks Mark’s cock out of his briefs. Mark tries his best to lean back in the seat, face flushing with the embarrassment of possibly being seen by someone walking by. How odd it must seem to your average passerby, Mark sitting flush-faced and open mouthed, an invisible Jeno between his legs about to swallow him whole.
Mark isn’t sure what to do with his hands—they just keep slipping along the material of Jeno’s car seats. What did he do during blowjobs before? Put his hands in his pockets? Jeno is dragging his tongue along the head of Mark’s cock, and now Mark can’t think of anything anymore except whatever the mental equivalent of a keysmash is.
Jeno, without moving his mouth from Mark’s cock, reaches up with a free hand, and then grabs at Mark’s wrist. Without a word, he drags Mark’s hand to his hair, and then blinks up at him with those stupidly shiny eyes.
“You can pull,” Jeno says, for one breathless moment, and then he takes Mark’s dick all the way down to the base.
The sensation of Jeno’s wet, pretty mouth all warm around him is enough for Mark to grip at Jeno’s hair without really thinking about it. He swears he can feel the tip grazing the back of Jeno’s throat, and the thought of that alone leaves him dizzy. How does someone even do that? Being gay seems like really hard work.
Jeno lets out a pleased hum at the sensation of his hair being pulled, and so Mark does it a little more, adding his other hand. He uses Jeno like an anchor, holding onto his hair with a determined grip, trying to not fuck his hips forward into Jeno’s mouth. Jeno is good at this, like really really good, his tongue sliding down Mark’s dick in a way that makes Mark’s scalp go numb with pleasure.
Mark closes his eyes and tips his head back, letting out the quietest moan he can. “Christ, Jeno—” he starts, but then he stops, because Jeno’s mouth is gone from his dick in an instant. He looks down, and Jeno is staring up at him with pink dusted cheeks, wiping spit from his with one hand and delicately stroking Mark’s cock with the other.
“Keep your eyes open,” Jeno says. “Remember? I want you to… you know. See me.”
Mark can’t even form a coherent response, half because the words coming from Jeno make his brain feel like absolute mush, and half because with Mark’s blinking stare back on him, Jeno has returned to sucking Mark off like his life depends on it.
“I’ll try,” Mark finally says, and he swears he can see Jeno smile around his cock. His thighs keep shaking with the exertion of trying just not to rabbit forward into Jeno’s mouth, and he’s almost afraid he might seriously injure Jeno with how hard he’s pulling on his hair. But Jeno—he seems just happy to be… used, as dirty as that term seems, as long as Mark’s eyes are on him.
Jeno, Mark decides, might just be the hottest person he’s met in his entire measly life. Really, if the world has men like Jeno in it, how did Mark not know he liked men sooner?
To make up for earlier, he attempts to take every detail of Jeno in. His fluttering, long lashes, his mouth that curls kittenish at the edges, the sharp angle of his nose.
“Pretty,” Mark says aloud, without really thinking, as Jeno laps almost puppyish along his cock. Jeno stares up at him with narrowed eyes that Mark can’t figure out are pleased or annoyed, so he blurts out “Sorry.”
Jeno takes him all the way to the base again, moving far far faster than he was a second ago, as if the single word from Mark has suddenly driven him to get an orgasm out of him as fast as possible.
“Oh—” Mark inhales, unable to fight the noises he wants to let out anymore. There’s a boiling heat in his gut, a desire to come like he hasn’t felt in a long time. It’s like he’s melting into the seats of Jeno’s car. The concern of people walking by and seeing is far beyond him now, he exists in a world of just Jeno and Jeno alone—running after him into that elevator may have been the best decision of his life just for this one orgasm.
“I’m gonna—I think I’m going to—where should I—” Each word starts and stops out of Mark’s mouth in a confused jumble. He attempts to pull away, though he’s not sure what his plan is, because getting jizz all over Jeno’s car would be extremely rude. Jeno seems to not even hear him, despite Mark’s insistent tugs on his hair, and so Mark just—
He comes. Half in Jeno’s mouth, and half on his face. Shit.
Jeno blinks, and Mark hates how bizarrely attractive it is to see his own come on Jeno’s face, a drip on his eyelid and falling down his cheek.
Gulping, Mark looks around frantically for a tissue in Jeno’s glove compartment. “I’m so sorry,” he stutters.
Jeno’s pink tongue darts out from his mouth, licking his lips, and he shrugs with a kittenish smile. He wipes some of the remnants of Mark’s orgasm from his face, and then in a move Mark finds extremely targeted, licks Mark’s come off of his fingers.
“That was fun,” Jeno says, his smiling eyes deceptively innocent for what they’ve just done. “Really wanted to do that ever since the lapdance.”
“Oh.” Mark fumbles with getting his dick back into his pants. All his actions feel twice as hard with post-orgasm buzz running under his skin. “Really?”
It’s awkward, with the positioning of Jeno on the floor of the car and Mark in the passenger seat leaned back as far as it can, but Jeno gets his way back onto Mark’s lap, unbuttoning his pants as he does.
“Yeah,” Jeno breathes out. His lips meet Mark’s, and Mark welcomes the kiss, the taste of himself in Jeno’s mouth. He can feel the little pants Jeno is letting out, tiny gasps of pleasure that direct Mark’s eyes downward.
Jeno has his hands down his pants, Mark realizes. Jeno is squirming in his lap, trying to jerk himself off and Mark isn’t even doing anything to help him out.
“I can do the same for you, you know, like—suck you off,” Mark says, despite the fact that he’s not really sure if he has any idea how to give another guy a blowjob. He thinks he could figure it out, if he really focused and remembered not to use his teeth. “Or I could try?”
Jeno laughs, and despite the fact that Mark has years of experience and countless girlfriends under his belt, he suddenly feels a little like a helpless virgin.
“It’s okay,” Jeno says, and he repositions himself so that he’s straddling Mark’s thigh. “I can just—like this is good. You don’t have to do anything.” His face falls into the crook of Mark’s neck as his hips jerk, and Mark realizes Jeno’s trying to ride his thigh. “Was pretty close from sucking you off already anyway.”
That last sentence hits like a gut punch, and Mark makes a dying weasel sort of noise, his hands running up Jeno’s sides. Jeno is grinding down on his lap, and each hot breath against Mark’s neck threatens to bring back his erection. This is a far different experience from the earlier lap dance—before, Jeno was in control, confident, seductive. Performing. Now, he seems innocent and desperate, almost sweet in a way.
“Jeno,” Mark says, and he slips a hand up Jeno’s tank top, perhaps an instinct from many years of making out with girls, “I really want to, uh, help.” His thumb brushes over Jeno’s nipple, and Jeno yelps in pleasure, noisier than Mark expected.
Okay, so he’s sensitive there. Cool. Mark will be completely normal about this.
His brain is a muddled mix of emotions and sensations—nerves still fried in post-orgasm bliss, sweat crawling down his back, the sound of Jeno panting into his ear and the distinct sensation of his hard-on grinding against Mark’s thigh. He decides just to let his instincts guide him, so he reaches forwards with the hand not on Jeno’s chest and shoves it down his pants.
It’s sweaty, and Mark can’t see, and there’s some strain on his arm trying to position everything right, but Mark manages to grab ahold of Jeno’s dick. It’s a heavy weight in his hands, a very different sensation than when he jerks himself off—he wonders, briefly, if Jeno might even be bigger than him. He’s so wet, and the glide of Mark’s hand is simple and quick. His other hand keeps with teasing at Jeno’s chest, because Jeno seems to like it a surprising amount, letting out these addictive shuddery breaths each time the pad of Mark’s finger touches a nipple.
Jeno lifts his face out of Mark’s neck, meeting his eyes, and says, “Thank you, Mark.” His tone is so genuine, and his eyes are sparkling under the outside street lamps—it would be sweet if not for the perversion of the entire situation. Before Mark can reply something stupid, like Haha yeah man I totes got you, Jeno crushes him in another kiss.
A year ago, fuck, even a week ago, Mark could have never imagined himself in a situation like this, with his hand on another man’s dick. Mark has always been straight and rigid all his life, firm on the path he thought he was on, but something about having a beautiful boy in your lap can really turn your entire world upside down. He’d always pictured gay sex as this sort of mystical, hard to pin down thing, a fantasy outside of his realm of perception, but Jeno is so real, so tangible against his mouth and hands.
It’s thrilling.
Mark’s afraid he might get addicted.
“I’m gonna—” Jeno is trembling in Mark’s hold, the muscles on his arms twice as defined from the strain, his eyelashes fluttering against reddened cheeks.
The noise Jeno makes when he comes is low and sweet, a rumbling moan followed by an embarrassed whimper. He pants as he spills all over Mark’s hand, and the sensation of his heavy breathing is palpable via Mark’s other hand on his chest.
Mark slides his hand out of Jeno’s pants, and thinks deeply about how great a pack of tissues would be in this moment. Just as he’s about to take an extreme L and wipe it on his pants, Jeno grips his wrist.
“I got it,” says Jeno, his voice hoarse. He leans down and—drags his tongue in a flat sweep across Mark’s palm, licking away the remnants of his own come.
Mark feels like his heart is attempting to escape out of his throat.
“Jeno, really…” Mark starts in faint protest, but then Jeno laps between his fingers, and all semblance of coherent thought flies straight out the window. He chooses to sit there, as Jeno sucks on his fingers, swearing he can hear the pattering rhythm of both their heartbeats trying to calm down.
“I could’ve wiped them on your coat or something,” Mark says, when his fingers fall out of Jeno’s mouth. “Haha.”
Jeno shrugs, with a mischievous smile. “More fun this way.”
“You,” says Mark, wide-eyed, “are seriously so fucking—cool.”
“You need to work on your pillow talk,” Jeno says. He’s still sitting on Mark’s lap, and the inside of his car is starting to feel a lot more claustrophobic.
“Sorry,” Mark mumbles. “Thank you, though. For um, helping me out?”
Jeno just laughs again. He looks a mess, with his pants unbuttoned and skin-tight tank top rucked up so high it’s showing off his abs. He’s got that messy, ditzy, sex-worn look on his face, and it’s way more attractive to Mark than he would’ve ever expected of himself. Mark considers reaching out to kiss him again, but his train of thought is rudely interrupted by the vibrating phone in his pocket.
It’s Donghyuck, calling him, and the image of his face flashing across Mark’s phone screen acts as a rude reminder that the entire world is in fact not just Mark, Jeno, and this car. He knows Donghyuck will just keep calling until he picks up, so he sighs and puts the phone to his ear.
Jeno watches him as he does this with those puppylike doe eyes, and then leans down, pressing a kiss at Mark’s collarbone. It makes Mark’s voice crack a little when he answers the phone with a “Hello?”
“Jesus Christ Mark, where did you go?” The noise behind Donghyuck’s voice indicates that the party has continued to be just as wild as it was when Mark and Jeno made their exit earlier. Right. The party. Renjun. Being a good groomsman. Mark should be thinking about these things, but then Jeno is still nibbling at the skin of Mark’s neck and it’s really, really hard to keep focus.
“Bathroom?” Mark says, giving himself away immediately. He has never been a very stellar liar.
Jeno laughs, unable to contain it, and then Donghyuck lets out a scandalized gasp from the other end of the line.
“No way,” Donghyuck says. “Did you and that stripper—Mark.”
“I, uh,” Mark glances back up at Jeno, who grins as he pulls his mouth away from Mark’s skin. “Well. Yeah. We kinda… you know. Got caught up in things.”
“Well–I’m so happy for you I really am but also–Unfortunately I need you to get back up here because Renjun’s throwing up in the toilet and I am way too plastered to take care of him and manage this party at the same damn time. You can bring your new boytoy, if you want, just get back up here—” He stops midsentence as there’s a loud crash in the background. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Yangyang, don’t touch that!”
Mark waits for more from Donghyuck, but all he hears is some muffled yelling followed by the long, slow beep of Donghyuck hanging up on him.
“I probably should go back up there,” Mark says to Jeno.
He really, really doesn’t want to. He wants to stay here, relishing in the newfound feeling of having someone like Jeno on his lap. He wants to take in every possible detail of this moment so that he doesn’t forget it for the rest of his life.
“You probably should,” Jeno says, voice softening. “I should go home and feed my cats.”
Something about that little detail makes Mark’s heart thunder in his chest. Is it possible to fall in love with someone in one night?
“You are really really cute,” Mark blurts out, and his hand squeezes Jeno’s side, as if testing to see if he’s real. “I think I like you a lot.”
A wide blush spreads across Jeno’s face, from his nose to his ears to down his neck.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” he mumbles. “You should–you really should go, though.”
“You can come back up with me,” Mark offers.
“Cats,” Jeno emphasizes. “I can’t.” Hair falling in his eyes, he reaches over and gets the side door open. The cold night breeze hits Mark’s skin, a firm reality check. Jeno steps out, in his fireman pants and skinny tank top, and extends a hand to help Mark out of the car as well.
Mark can’t help but feel a little wounded, even though he knows he’s doing the good thing as a friend, because what he wanted was for Jeno to insist he stayed. But even if he never saw Jeno again after tonight—he wouldn’t be able to think of this entire experience as anything but positive. He almost reaches out to Jeno for an awkward bro-hug, but decides against it. It’s not like he’s ever done that with a girl after sex.
“I’ll see you around?” he says instead, despite the nonsensical quality of it, as if Mark will be experiencing anything else in his near future involving male strippers.
Jeno nods, coy smile on his face. “You will.”
As Mark turns around to head back up the street to Donghyuck’s apartment, he gets hit with the distinct feeling he’s forgotten something important. His brain is too fuzzed out to pinpoint what it is, though, still too busy replaying the events of the past hour over and over. Just what was it?
He’s almost to the entrance of Donghyuck’s building when he hears the noise of feet pounding on pavement behind him. He whips around, turning to see—Jeno, running up the street.
“Mark!” he yells, and he stops once he’s finally in front of him, catching his breath. “I forgot to give you something.”
“Oh,” Mark says, and then Jeno grabs his cheeks, and pulls him in for a kiss. It lasts just a few moments, but it has Mark’s head spinning like someone sucked all the air out of his lungs. Before he can even form a proper response, Jeno reaches around to Mark’s back, and shoves something in his pocket.
“Call me,” Jeno says, and then as fast as he appeared, he turns around, and starts jogging back towards his car.
Mark reaches into his back pocket, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper that Jeno shoved in there. He unfolds it to find a number scrawled in hurried pen with a tiny smiley face next to it, and a note.
I think I like you a lot too. - Jeno.
Mark swallows as he carefully puts the paper note back into his jeans.
If this is what gay bachelor parties are like, he thinks he could get used to it.