Chapter Text
It was the next day after the intense dance practice, the members of NCT Dream scattered around the studio, each trying to catch their breath. Mark, always one to take a few moments to relax, made his way over to the couch, sitting down with a contented sigh. He spread his legs wide, settling in comfortably as he stretched out—manspreading. The room was filled with the sounds of laboured breathing and the occasional mutter from the other members as they cooled down.
As the others settled into their spots, the couch quickly filled up. Jisung took a seat beside Mark, while Renjun and Jaemin sat at the other end, leaving no room for Haechan. Haechan surveyed the room, noticing no other spots. Without a second thought, he plopped down onto the floor right in front of Mark, laying his head back against the couch in between Mark’s legs. Jeno and Chenle had also sat on the floor.
The floor was cool beneath him, but the position had an oddly comforting feel to it. Haechan’s heavy breathing from the practice slowed as he relaxed into the moment, his head resting just inches away from Mark’s thighs… and crotch. He could feel Mark’s legs slightly brushing against the sides of his head as he leaned back, the warmth radiating from his body.
Mark, who had been half-focused on the guys around him, glanced down and noticed Haechan’s head resting right between his legs. He looked at the position for a beat too long, his gaze darkening as he took in the subtle closeness. The sight was almost too intimate, the tension in the air shifting as he looked down at Haechan’s face, slightly flushed from the practice.
Haechan turned his head, sensing Mark’s stare. His eyes met Mark’s, the weight of the silence between them making his heart skip a beat. “I’m just catching my breath,” he said, voice low but carrying a teasing edge, as he shifted slightly to look up at Mark.
Mark didn’t respond right away. His gaze was intense, unwavering, as he locked eyes with Haechan. His lips curled into a slow smirk, but there was something darker behind it, something unreadable. The way Haechan was positioned, the closeness between them, made Mark’s mind race just a little faster than he expected.
“You’re making this a little hard to ignore, you know that?” Mark said, his voice hushed, but with an undeniable edge. He didn’t move, just watching Haechan as he lay there, his breath still heavy from the practice. The way Haechan looked up at him, so casual but with a slight tension in his expression, made Mark’s pulse quicken.
Haechan blinked at him, trying to keep his composure despite the growing awareness of the position. He shifted again, but his head stayed right where it was, still between Mark’s legs. “It’s just a spot to rest, Mark,” he said with a smirk, trying to act nonchalant, but his voice betrayed him, still breathless from the exertion.
Mark leaned forward slightly, his expression now dark as he studied Haechan, his eyes flicking down to the way Haechan’s head was tilted back, his body almost too close to Mark’s. He couldn’t help but notice how the position felt… a little too intimate. He almost didn’t want to acknowledge it, but the pull of the moment was undeniable.
“Sure, just resting,” Mark said with a grin, but the words came out more like a challenge. He let his hand rest on the couch behind Haechan’s head, as if to silently confirm the closeness.
Haechan, feeling the weight of Mark’s gaze, turned his head again, avoiding eye contact. His face flushed as the tension between them thickened. “I—yeah, just catching my breath,” he muttered, his words barely above a whisper.
The moment felt suspended, both of them fully aware of the closeness yet neither willing to break the silence. It was almost like a game, one neither of them had meant to start but both couldn’t ignore. All the others didn't seem to notice—caught up in their own conversations.
Finally, Haechan, feeling too awkward to stay in the moment any longer, shifted slightly, pulling himself up to sit properly, though the heat from Mark’s stare lingered.
“You’re such a tease,” Haechan muttered, though it was clear he was just as affected as Mark. He glanced over at him, trying to make light of the situation, but the dark, teasing glint in Mark’s eyes made it hard to ignore what had just passed between them. He hadn't even meant anything by placing his head there originally.
Mark only chuckled softly, still leaning back on the couch with a smug smile. “Maybe,” he replied, voice low and almost too smooth. “But you’re the one who chose to do that.”
Haechan shot him a quick look, rolling his eyes, but he couldn’t fully mask the flush on his face.
The tension stretched between them, heavy and electric. Neither of them moved, but the energy in the room shifted. It wasn’t until Jisung called out from across the studio, breaking the spell, that they both seemed to snap out of it.
“Alright, we’re heading out,” Jisung announced, stretching lazily as the others followed suit. “You two coming?”
Mark glanced over at them, then back down at Haechan, who was now sitting up, avoiding Mark’s gaze. “Nah, I think we’ll stay here for a bit,” Mark said, his tone casual but his eyes never leaving Haechan. “Gonna go over a few things with Haechan. He missed some practices, so…”
Haechan shot him a look, eyebrows raised in protest. “Hey, I don’t need extra help,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual confidence.
“Need or not, you’re getting it,” Mark said, his smirk returning as he stood up from the couch. “Right, Haechan?”
Haechan opened his mouth to argue but stopped when he saw the playful glint in Mark’s eyes. Instead, he rolled his own eyes and muttered something under his breath, watching the others head out.
The door clicked shut behind them, leaving only the faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft glow of the overhead lights. The studio felt different now—quieter, warmer, and infinitely more intimate.
“So, what do we need to go over?” Haechan asked, his voice slightly defensive but tinged with curiosity.
Mark leaned against the back of the couch, crossing his arms as he studied Haechan. “Remember that conversation we had a while back?” he began, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “You said you’d do anything I asked if I spoke to you a certain way.”
Haechan froze, his face flushing as memories of the conversation flooded back. “I… I might have said that,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Why is Mark bringing that up?
Mark pushed off the couch, closing the distance between them until he was standing mere inches away from Haechan. “Well, I’ve been thinking about it,” he said, his voice low and smooth, the kind of tone that had always made Haechan weak in the knees. “And I’ve got some ideas.”
Haechan swallowed hard, his heart racing as he looked up at Mark. “Ideas for what?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly. He still thought that they were practicing their dance.
Mark grinned, slow and dangerous. “For you to do,” he said, letting the words hang in the air like a challenge.
Haechan’s breath hitched, his mind spinning as he tried to process what Mark was implying. Before he could say anything, Mark reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against Haechan’s cheek. “So, Haechan… do you still feel that way?”
Mark leaned in closer, his breath hot against Haechan’s ear. “First request,” he whispered, the words sending shivers down Haechan’s spine. The heat of Mark’s proximity was overwhelming, making it hard to think straight. Haechan’s body tensed, but there was no hint of resistance in his stance. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of anticipation and sheer desire thrumming through him.
“What… what is it?” Haechan stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel Mark’s lips so close to his ear, the warmth of them almost brushing against his skin. It was intoxicating, the way Mark spoke, the way he moved—so confident, so commanding. The entire mood had just changed.
“Stand up,” Mark said, his tone soft but laced with an undeniable authority. “And face me.”
Haechan hesitated for only a moment before pushing himself up from the floor. His movements were slow, almost deliberate, as if every action was an act of obedience. When he was standing, he found himself right before Mark, their bodies aligned in a way that made the air between them seem charged with electricity.
He was surprised at how Mark was acting and was unsure of what Mark was going to have him do.
Mark’s eyes met his, dark and intense, and Haechan felt a lump form in his throat. There was something about the way Mark looked at him, like he could see right through him, that made Haechan’s pulse race even faster. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing, but it was no use. The tension between them was palpable, almost suffocating.
“That’s it,” Mark murmured, his voice low and approving. The praise sent a wave of heat through Haechan’s body, making his cheeks flush. He didn’t know why, but hearing those words from Mark made him feel... special. Like he was being seen, truly seen, for the first time.
Mark reached out, his fingers wrapping around Haechan’s wrist. The touch was firm but not rough, a gentle reminder of who was in control. Haechan’s breath hitched as Mark guided his arm, positioning it carefully by his side.
“Now,” Mark said, his voice still soft but carrying a new edge, “I want you to lift your shirt. Slowly.”
Haechan’s eyes widened slightly at the request, but he didn’t protest. Instead, he obeyed without much hesitation, lifting the hem of his shirt inch by inch as if hypnotized. The fabric brushed against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He could feel the cool air of the studio against his abdomen, contrasting with the warmth radiating from Mark’s hand on his wrist.
Mark watched him intently, his gaze never wavering as Haechan revealed more of himself. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—desire, perhaps—but it was quickly masked by a calm, almost detached expression. Yet, the grip on Haechan’s wrist tightened ever so slightly, a silent indication of his arousal.
“Good,” Mark muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. The word was so quiet, yet it resonated deeply within Haechan, sending a thrill of satisfaction through him. He felt a surge of pride, knowing that Mark was pleased with him. But then again, what the hell was going on?!
Mark stepped closer, his body now almost touching Haechan’s. The heat from his frame was overwhelming, making it hard to focus on anything else. Haechan could feel the faint rise and fall of Mark’s chest, the subtle movement drawing his attention downward. He wanted to look away, to regain some semblance of control, but he couldn’t. Not when Mark was this close, not when he was being treated like this.
“You’re doing well,” Mark said, his voice smooth and reassuring. “But I think we can make this a little more interesting.”
Mark’s grin widened as his hand slid from Haechan’s wrist, skimming down the curve of his arm to rest lightly at his side. “You’re doing great,” Mark murmured, his voice dark, almost teasing. His gaze traveled deliberately over Haechan’s figure, a flicker of heat sparking in his eyes. “Now… take your right hand. Slowly.” Mark couldn't believe that Haechan was actually following along with what he was saying, but he was not complaining.
Haechan’s breath hitched, his lips parting as he followed the command, the weight of Mark’s stare making his every movement feel amplified, magnified. His fingers trembled slightly as he raised his hand, unsure of what Mark was going to say next.
“Touch yourself,” Mark said softly, his tone low and laced with authority. He stepped even closer, their bodies now almost brushing. “Start with your chest. Just… feel it.”
Haechan’s heart raced, the words hanging heavy in the air. He hesitated, glancing up at Mark, searching his face for something—reassurance, maybe. But Mark’s expression remained steady, commanding yet gentle, leaving no room for doubt or refusal.
Slowly, Haechan obeyed, his hand rising to his chest. His fingers splayed out, brushing over the fabric of his shirt. He swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his own body through the material. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, the intimacy of the act making his face burn.
“Good,” Mark murmured, his voice a mix of approval and hunger. His own hand came up, skimming along Haechan’s arm, a soft caress that sent shivers through him. “Now lower… under the shirt.”
Haechan’s breath caught in his throat, his mind spinning as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric. The warmth of his own skin met his touch, and he couldn’t suppress the quiet gasp that escaped his lips. Mark’s eyes darkened at the sound, the corners of his mouth lifting in a satisfied smirk.
“Feel yourself,” Mark whispered, his voice almost a growl. “I want to see you lose control.”
Mark’s smirk deepened as he tilted his head slightly, watching every flicker of emotion that danced across Haechan’s face. His gaze was dark, locked onto the way Haechan’s hand trembled under his shirt. “Now,” Mark said softly, his voice dipping lower, commanding yet smooth as velvet, “play with your nipples. Slowly. I want to hear you, Haechan.”
Haechan’s breath hitched, his cheeks flushing deeper as he obeyed, his fingers brushing over one of his nipples. The sudden sensitivity made him shiver, a soft, unintentional whine slipping past his lips. His knees wavered slightly, but he stood firm, biting his lower lip to stifle the sound that had already betrayed him. His body was very sensitive.
“Don’t hold back,” Mark said sharply, leaning in closer. His hands found Haechan’s hips, steadying him, his thumbs pressing firmly into the warm skin through the fabric. “Let me hear everything.”
Encouraged, or maybe compelled by the intensity in Mark’s voice, Haechan circled his fingers around the hardening nub, pinching lightly. The sensation sent a jolt of heat rushing through him, and this time, he couldn’t suppress the whimper that followed. His body leaned forward slightly, as though instinctively seeking more, and his lips parted to release another trembling sound.
Mark’s gaze darkened further, his pupils blown wide with arousal. “That’s it,” he murmured approvingly, his tone thick with satisfaction. “Good. Keep going.”
Haechan’s other hand lifted almost of its own accord, sliding up to join the first under his shirt. He toyed with both nipples now, his touch alternating between soft brushes and firmer pinches. The sounds he made grew louder, breathy whines and soft moans spilling out as he gave in to the overwhelming sensation. His head tilted back, exposing his throat as he surrendered to the intimacy of Mark’s instructions.
Mark’s fingers tightened on Haechan’s hips, his own composure beginning to fray. The sight of Haechan so lost in the moment, the flushed cheeks, the trembling lips, the way his body responded so perfectly—it was intoxicating. “You like that, don’t you?” Mark said, his voice rougher now, edged with his own growing desire.
Haechan could only nod, too caught up in the sensation to form coherent words. His lips parted again, another desperate moan escaping as he twisted one nipple between his fingers, the sharp pleasure making his knees weaken. “Ah, M-Mark…” he whimpered, the sound high and needy, his voice cracking slightly.
Mark groaned quietly, his self-control slipping further. “You sound so good like that,” he muttered, his tone thick with hunger. His hands slid from Haechan’s hips, ghosting over his waist, and he leaned in even closer, his breath hot against Haechan’s ear. “Keep going. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
Mark’s breath fanned over Haechan’s ear, and he let his lips brush the edge of it, just enough to make Haechan shiver. His voice dropped even lower, laced with anticipation. “You’re doing so well, Haechan. But now, I want you to take it further.” His hands tightened briefly on Haechan’s waist, grounding him, before he continued. “Move your hands lower. Show me how much you want this.”
Haechan’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his hands trembled. He hesitated for only a second before doing as Mark asked, his fingers trailing down over his stomach, the tips ghosting over his waistband. His body felt like it was on fire, every nerve alight under Mark’s piercing gaze.
Mark stepped back slightly, giving Haechan just enough space to follow through. His eyes were glued to the younger man, his lips parting slightly as his tongue darted out to wet them. “Go ahead,” Mark urged, his voice soft but filled with a quiet dominance. “Touch yourself.”
Haechan’s cheeks burned as he slipped a hand beneath the fabric, his fingers brushing over the growing erection between his legs. He gasped, the contact making his knees wobble again, and his other hand reached out, gripping Mark’s arm for support. A low, needy whimper escaped his lips as he began to stroke himself slowly, the friction making his entire body hum with pleasure.
“Mmh,” Mark murmured, his tone filled with approval and something darker. His eyes didn’t leave Haechan’s face, drinking in every expression, every sound. “I want to see you enjoy this. Don’t hold back.”
Haechan’s breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his hands trembled. He hesitated for only a second before doing as Mark asked, his fingers trailing down over his stomach, the tips ghosting over his waistband. His body felt like it was on fire, every nerve alight under Mark’s piercing gaze.
Mark stepped back slightly, giving Haechan just enough space to follow through. His eyes were glued to the younger man, his lips parting slightly as his tongue darted out to wet them. “Go ahead,” Mark urged, his voice soft but filled with a quiet dominance. “Touch yourself.”
Haechan’s cheeks burned as he slipped a hand beneath the fabric, his fingers brushing over the growing erection between his legs. He gasped, the contact making his knees wobble again, and his other hand reached out, gripping Mark’s arm for support. A low, needy whimper escaped his lips as he began to stroke himself slowly, the friction making his entire body hum with pleasure.
“Mmh,” Mark murmured, his tone filled with approval and something darker. His eyes didn’t leave Haechan’s face, drinking in every expression, every sound. “I want to see you enjoy this. Don’t hold back.”
Haechan’s lips trembled as he let out a shaky moan, his hand moving with more urgency. The pressure was almost too much, the way Mark watched him, how close he was, the warmth of his presence making it impossible to focus. He whimpered, his voice breaking. “M-Mark… I…” He struggled to find the words, his breathing uneven. “I… I can’t wait anymore.”
Mark arched a brow, the smirk returning to his lips as he took a deliberate step closer. “Can’t wait for what, Haechan?” he asked, his tone teasing, though his own voice carried a rough edge that betrayed his restraint. “Tell me.”
Haechan’s hand stilled, his body trembling as he met Mark’s gaze, his own eyes glazed with need. “You,” he whispered, his voice raw, desperate. “I want you to touch me. Please, Mark… I can’t—” His words broke off as he exhaled shakily, his free hand tightening its grip on Mark’s arm.
Mark’s smirk deepened, and his hand rose to cup Haechan’s jaw, his thumb brushing over his cheek in a soothing yet possessive gesture. “You’re so needy,” he said softly, his voice dripping with approval. “But since you asked so nicely…” His hand slid lower, covering Haechan’s, guiding him as he leaned in closer. “I’ll do as you wish.”
Without a moment's pause, Mark had replaced Haechan’s hand beneath his pants and taken over. His touch was firm, purposeful, and so different from Haechan’s hesitant strokes. Haechan’s head fell back with a gasp, his fingers curling into the fabric of Mark’s shirt as the older man guided his movements. The sensation was overwhelming, his body responding instantly to Mark’s expertise.
“Ah… M-Mark…” Haechan moaned, his voice high and strained, each syllable punctuated by the slight buck of his hips against Mark’s hand. His nails dug faintly into Mark’s arm, a silent plea for more, for something he couldn’t quite articulate.
Mark chuckled softly, the sound low and intimate, vibrating against Haechan’s skin where their bodies were pressed together. “That’s right,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Let go, Haechan. Let me take care of you.”
His strokes grew faster, more deliberate, and Haechan could feel himself unraveling, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within him. His breathing became ragged, his moans louder, more desperate. “Please…” he whimpered, his voice cracking. “I… I don’t think I can…”
“Shh,” Mark cooed, his free hand smoothing up Haechan’s side, pausing to tweak a nipple through his shirt. “You’re doing so well. Just listen to me.” His voice dropped an octave, deeper, rougher, and Haechan shuddered at the sound. “Focus on my voice. On my touch. Let yourself go.”
Haechan obeyed, his mind going blank except for the sensations flooding his body. Mark’s hand was everywhere, his voice commanding, his presence overwhelming. And yet, it wasn’t enough. Haechan needed more—needed him more. His hips jerked slightly, his fingers fisting harder in Mark’s shirt. “Mark…” he panted, his voice barely audible, “please… touch me more.”
Mark’s brows lifted in amusement, though his darkening gaze suggested he was anything but unaffected. “More, huh?” he mused, his tone playful but laced with intent. “You sure about that?”
Haechan nodded frantically, his movements jerky, his eyes pleading. “Yes… please…”
Mark’s smirk returned, slow and predatory, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against Haechan’s ear. “Alright,” he whispered, his breath hot and tantalizing against the sensitive skin. “If you say so.”
With that, he shifted his grip, one hand sliding lower to rest just above Haechan’s thigh, the other continuing its rhythm with deliberate precision. Haechan’s breath hitched, his body arching instinctively as Mark’s fingers grazed the inside of his thigh, the touch featherlight but electrifying.
“Fuck,” Haechan groaned, his voice hoarse, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily. “Mark… don’t stop…”
“Who said I was stopping?” Mark replied, his tone smug, though his actions were anything but. His fingers tightened around Haechan’s length, stroking faster, harder, while his other hand inched closer to the source of Haechan’s desperation. “Just warming up.”
Haechan’s vision blurred, his body thrumming with need. “W-warming up?” he echoed, his voice fa
int, incredulous. “You’re… already…” His words dissolved into a breathless moan as Mark’s thumb brushed against the tip, collecting the precome there and spreading it down the length of him.
“Already what?” Mark asked, his voice low and teasing, though his own breathing had grown heavier. His fingers flexed subtly, pressing firmer against Haechan’s thigh as his grip on Haechan’s length tightened. “Tell me.”
Haechan whimpered, his head lolling to the side as he tried to form the words. “Too… good…” he managed, his voice broken, his body trembling uncontrollably. “I can’t… I’m gonna—”
“Not yet,” Mark interrupted, his tone sharp but not unkind. “You’re not done yet, Haechan. Not until I say so.” His voice softened as he added, “And when you do… I want you to come for me. Let me hear you.”
Those words alone were enough to send Haechan over the edge, but he restrained himself waiting for Mark's words.
Soon, after a few agonizing seconds, Mark finally nodded and Haechan's entire body tensed, his fingers clawing at Mark’s arm as he let out a strangled cry, his release spilling over Mark’s hand. The waves of pleasure crashed over him, leaving him weak and gasping for air as his body shuddered beneath Mark’s touch.
“Good,” Mark murmured, his voice tender but laced with pride. He slowed his strokes, allowing Haechan to come down gently, his hand never leaving Haechan’s thigh. “You did so well.”
Haechan blinked up at him, his chest heaving, his eyes glassy. “Mark…” he whispered, his voice soft, vulnerable.
Mark’s lips quirked into a small smile, though his eyes remained dark with unspoken desire. “Anytime,” he said, his tone light, though his next words sent a shiver down Haechan’s spine. “Now… let’s see if we can make it even better next time.”
Mark’s hand lingered on Haechan’s thigh, his thumb stroking in slow, deliberate circles as the younger man caught his breath. The air between them was thick with unspoken promises, the kind that made Haechan’s skin prickle with anticipation. He could still feel the echo of Mark’s touch, the way his hand had guided him, controlled him, brought him to the edge and over it. It had been everything Haechan had wanted, needed, but now… now he wanted more.
“M-Mark,” Haechan murmured, his voice trembling but no less insistent. His fingers brushed against Mark’s wrist, a silent plea that begged for something deeper, something more intimate. “Please… I want you.”
Mark’s eyes darkened, the smoldering heat in his gaze making Haechan’s breath hitch. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Haechan’s ear as he spoke, his voice low and rough with desire. “Do you mean that? Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?”
Haechan’s heart pounded in his chest, the question both teasing and probing. He turned his head slightly, their faces inches apart, and met Mark’s gaze with an intensity that surprised even himself. “I mean it,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I want you, Mark. I need you.”
Mark’s lips curved into a small, predatory smile, and he pulled back just enough to look down at Haechan. “Then show me,” he said, his tone commanding yet inviting. “Show me how much you want this.”
Haechan swallowed hard, his throat dry with anticipation. He hesitated for only a moment before shifting forward, his hands trembling as they reached for Mark’s waistband. His fingers fumbled with the button and zipper, his movements clumsy but determined, until finally he managed to free Mark from his pants. The older man’s cock sprang into view, already half-hard and twitching with arousal. Haechan’s breath hitched, his eyes widening as he took in the sight.
Mark watched him carefully, his expression unreadable but his body tense with restrained desire. “Go on,” he urged, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Haechan’s spine. “Touch me.”
Haechan’s hands shook as he wrapped them around Mark’s length, his grip hesitant at first but growing firmer as he adjusted to the texture and warmth of him. He started to stroke slowly, his movements unsure but eager, his eyes flickering up to Mark’s face for approval.
“That’s it,” Mark murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Keep going.”
Encouraged by the praise, Haechan increased the pace, his strokes growing bolder as he found a rhythm that pleased both of them. Mark’s eyes drifted shut, his head tilting back as he let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through Haechan and making his own arousal pulse harder. He tightened his grip, his strokes becoming more confident, more deliberate, as he focused on bringing Mark pleasure.
“You’re doing so well,” Mark said, his voice rough with need. He opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto Haechan’s, and the intensity of it made the younger man’s breath catch. “But now… I want you to do something else.”
Haechan’s brow furrowed, his fingers pausing mid-stroke. “What… what do you want me to do?”
Mark’s lips curved into a sly smile, and he tipped his head toward the mirror on the far wall of the practice room. “Turn around,” he instructed, his tone firm but tinged with a hint of playfulness. “I want to see you.”
Haechan’s cheeks flushed crimson, the idea of being watched like that making his heart race. He hesitated for only a second before obeying, turning to face the mirror and positioning himself so that both he and Mark were reflected in its surface. The sight of them together—Mark behind him, his towering frame silhouetted by the dim light, and Haechan standing there, his hands still gripping Mark’s cock—was almost too much to bear.
“Now,” Mark said, his voice low and commanding. “Stroke yourself while you touch me.”
Oh god. Haechan’s breath hitched as he slid his free hand beneath his waistband, his fingers brushing against his sensitive flesh. The sensation was overwhelming, the dual pleasure of touching himself and Mark making his knees weak. He stroked himself slowly at first, his movements mirroring those of his other hand, but soon the urgency crept in, his strokes growing faster and more desperate.
Mark’s hand settled on Haechan’s hip, his grip firm but not controlling, a silent reassurance that grounded the younger man. “Good,” he murmured, his voice rough with approval. “Keep going. Don’t stop.”
Haechan obeyed, his focus narrowing to the task at hand. His eyes flicked to the mirror, watching as his own flushed face and trembling hands played out the scene. The sight of himself, so exposed, so vulnerable, under Mark’s watchful gaze was intoxicating. He could see the way Mark’s eyes gleamed with desire, the way his lips parted as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against Haechan’s ear.
“You’re beautiful like this,” Mark whispered, his voice a low growl that made Haechan shiver. “So needy, so eager… it makes me want to take you right now.”
Haechan’s breath stuttered, his body tightening with anticipation. “P-please,” he whimpered, his voice breaking. “I want you to…”
“Tell me,” Mark demanded, his tone sharp but laced with hunger. “What do you want, Haechan?”
Haechan’s eyes squeezed shut, his body trembling as he fought to form the words. “I want… I want you to fuck me,” he admitted, his voice raw and pleading. “Please, Mark… I can’t wait anymore.”
Mark’s grip on Haechan’s hip tightened, his body pressing closer as he let out a low groan of approval. “You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dark with anticipation. “Because once we start, there’s no going back.”
Haechan nodded desperately, his fingers continuing to move as he sought to reassure Mark with his actions. “I’m sure,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with need. “I’m ready. Please…”
Mark didn’t waste any time after that.
Mark’s hand slid from Haechan’s hip to his lower back, pressing him closer as the other moved between them, undoing his belt with deliberate precision. The metallic snap echoed in the room, a sharp contrast to the soft whimpers spilling from Haechan’s lips. Mark’s touch was calculated, every move sending shivers down Haechan’s spine.
“Look at yourself,” Mark commanded, his voice low and rough, barely contained. “I want you to watch.”
Haechan’s breath caught, his eyes flicking to the mirror ahead. His reflection was flushed, wide-eyed, and trembling, his hands still gripping Mark’s arm for support. The image of himself, so undone and vulnerable, sent a wave of heat through him. He swallowed hard, his chest heaving as he obeyed, meeting his own gaze in the reflection.
Mark’s hands were swift but careful, sliding Haechan’s pants and boxers down his hips until they pooled around his ankles. The cool air hit his skin, making him shiver, but the warmth of Mark’s body against his front was overwhelming. Mark stepped back just enough to crouch slightly, his fingers trailing along Haechan’s thighs before pushing them apart. Haechan bit his lip, his legs trembling as he shifted to give Mark better access.
“Spread your legs wider,” Mark ordered, his tone firm but laced with something indulgent. “Give me room to work.”
Work. The word sent a thrill through Haechan, his heart pounding as he obliged, his thighs parting further. Mark’s hands returned to his hips, one staying there to steady him while the other reached for the small vial of lube on the bedside table. Haechan’s eyes never left the mirror, watching as Mark coated his fingers with slow, deliberate strokes.
Mark murmured, his voice thick with desire. “So ready for me.”
Haechan’s breath hitched, his cheeks burning as he watched Mark’s reflection lean in closer. Mark’s fingers ghosted over his entrance, teasingly light, before he pushed one inside. Haechan gasped, his head tilting back as pleasure shot through him. Mark’s thumb pressed against the base of his cock, rubbing in slow circles that made Haechan whimper desperately.
“Relax for me,” Mark said, his voice calm but commanding. “Let me take care of you.”
Haechan tried to obey, his body relaxing under Mark’s ministrations. Mark added a second finger, crooking them slightly to find that sweet spot inside him. Haechan cried out, his hands gripping Mark’s shoulders for balance as waves of pleasure coursed through him. The sight of Mark’s reflection behind him, so focused and controlled, made it impossible to think straight.
“Ah, Mark…” Haechan moaned, his voice breaking as Mark twisted his fingers again. “It’s too much…”
“Shh,” Mark whispered, his lips brushing Haechan’s ear. “Just feel. Let go for me.”
Haechan nodded weakly, his eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered to the sensations. Mark’s fingers worked faster now, stretching him carefully, preparing him with agonizing slowness. Haechan’s nails dug into Mark’s shoulders, his breaths coming in short, uneven bursts.
“Please,” Haechan begged, his voice raw and desperate. “I can’t wait anymore…”
Mark pulled his fingers free, his movements almost reverent as he stood and lined himself up. Haechan could feel the tip of Mark’s erection pressing against him, hot and insistent. His heart raced, his entire body humming with anticipation.
“Look at me,” Mark said, his voice rougher now, edged with his own need. “Watch us.”
Haechan’s eyes snapped to the mirror, his breath catching as he saw Mark positioning himself behind him. Mark’s hands gripped his hips tightly, pulling him back slightly before thrusting forward with deliberate precision. Haechan cried out, his legs trembling as Mark filled him completely. The stretch was intense, overwhelming, but beneath it was a deep, satisfying fullness that made his knees weak.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” Mark muttered, his voice strained as he held himself still, giving Haechan time to adjust. “So tight for me.”
Haechan let out a shaky moan, his head falling forward as he tried to catch his breath. The sight of Mark, so large and dominating in the mirror, made his stomach flutter with both fear and exhilaration. His hands reached out, gripping the edge of the dresser for support as Mark began to move.
“That’s it,” Mark growled, his hips snapping forward with purpose. “Take me like this.”
Haechan cried out again, his voice breaking as Mark’s thrusts grew deeper, more forceful. Each movement sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him, his body clenching around Mark with desperate need. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, accompanied by the wet slap of flesh against flesh.
“M-Mark…” Haechan whimpered, his eyes locked on the mirror as he watched Mark’s face contort with passion. “Ah, harder… please…”
Mark didn’t hesitate, his pace quickening as he drove into Haechan with unrestrained intensity. His hands gripped Haechan’s waist tighter, grounding him as he took control. Haechan’s vision blurred, his mind spiraling as euphoria overwhelmed him. Every thrust, every groan, every glance in the mirror—it all fed into the growing storm inside him.
Haechan’s head fell back against Mark’s shoulder, his body trembling violently as he struggled to keep up. Mark’s hand left his waist, moving between them to grasp his dick, stroking him in time with his thrusts. The friction was almost too much, the pleasure building quickly, threatening to consume him.
Mark’s strokes on Haechan’s cock grew faster, matching the deep, relentless rhythm of his hips. The combined sensations pushed Haechan closer to the edge, his cries growing louder and more desperate with every thrust. His entire body trembled, the pleasure unbearable yet intoxicating as Mark held him in place, their reflections a sinful tableau of heat and intensity.
“Mark… I—” Haechan gasped, his voice breaking as the pressure in his core spiraled out of control. His nails clawed at the edge of the dresser, leaving faint marks as his body tensed.
“Let go,” Mark growled, his tone raw and commanding, his own control unraveling. “Cum for me, Haechan. Now.”
The words sent Haechan spiraling, his entire body arching as the orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave. He cried out Mark’s name, his dick twitching in Mark’s hand as thick ropes of cum painted his trembling thighs. His legs threatened to give out, but Mark’s hands held him steady, grounding him through the storm of pleasure.
The sight of Haechan falling apart beneath him, the sound of his name on Haechan’s lips, pushed Mark over the edge. With a low, guttural groan, he thrust deeply one last time, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside Haechan. His grip on Haechan’s waist was bruising, his hips stuttering as he rode out the waves of his release. The warmth of him filled Haechan, the sensation leaving him dizzy and weak.
Mark’s forehead rested against Haechan’s shoulder, both of them panting heavily as the aftershocks rippled through their bodies. The room was silent except for their uneven breaths, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Slowly, Mark eased out of Haechan, his hands gentle as he steadied him, making sure he didn’t collapse.
Haechan turned slightly, his face flushed and dazed, his legs wobbling as he tried to regain his balance. Mark caught him, pulling him down to the floor with him. They sat together, their backs against the mirror, their bodies warm and sticky as they tried to catch their breath.
Haechan leaned into Mark, his head resting against his chest, his eyes fluttering shut. “That was…” he began, his voice soft and breathless, but he trailed off, unable to find the words.
Mark chuckled quietly, pressing a kiss to Haechan’s temple. “Yeah, it was,” he murmured, his voice still rough but filled with a quiet satisfaction.
After a few minutes, Mark pushed himself up with a grunt, offering Haechan a hand. “Come on,” he said, his tone softer now. “Let’s get cleaned up.”
Haechan took his hand, letting Mark pull him to his feet. His legs were still shaky, but Mark’s arm around his waist kept him steady. They stumbled to the bathroom together, exchanging quiet smiles as they washed away the evidence of their passion. The water was warm, soothing, and the gentle touches as they helped clean each other carried an intimacy that neither could put into words.
When they were done, they returned to the studio, collapsing onto the couch, their bodies still warm and relaxed. Haechan nestled against Mark, his head resting on his shoulder, a content smile playing on his lips.
Mark wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer.
The moment was interrupted by the sound of the studio door swinging open, the voices of the other members spilling into the room.
“Hey, where are you guys—oh,” Renjun started, his brows raising as he caught sight of Mark and Haechan on the couch. Behind him, Chenle and Jisung craned their necks to see inside.
“We’ve been looking for you,” Jaemin said, stepping inside with a grin. “Didn’t think you’d still be practicing. What’s going on?” It had been a while since they left.
Haechan sat up quickly, his face flushing as he tried to smooth his hair, looking anything but composed. Mark, however, remained calm, stretching slightly before flashing his usual casual grin. “We were just wrapping up,” he said smoothly, his tone as nonchalant as ever.
“Practicing?” Chenle echoed, glancing at Haechan, who was now fumbling with his phone. “Did it go well? You both look…” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “…weird.”
Jeno shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Come on, we’re heading out for dinner. You guys are coming, right?”
Mark stood first, extending a hand to Haechan to help him up. Haechan hesitated for a second before taking it, his legs still wobbly. As he rose to his feet, he winced slightly, biting his lip to stifle the sound. The shift didn’t go unnoticed by Chenle.
“Why are you limping?” Chenle asked, cocking his head as his eyes darted between Mark and Haechan. “Did you hurt yourself or something?”
Mark stepped in smoothly, his tone casual but firm. “It’s nothing serious. Just the bruise he got a couple days ago is still healing.” He placed a reassuring hand on Haechan’s lower back, guiding him gently toward the door. “He’s been overdoing it a bit today, so I told him he needs to take it easy after dinner.”
“Right,” Renjun said, though he gave Haechan a suspicious glance as the younger boy avoided eye contact. “Well, make sure you actually rest. We don’t need you out of commission again.”
“Yeah,” Jisung chimed in, nodding sagely. “Can’t have you falling apart before our next performance.”
Haechan chuckled nervously, his usual cocky demeanor slipping just slightly. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Let’s just eat.”
Mark’s hand remained steady on Haechan’s back as they followed the others out, his movements careful to ensure Haechan didn’t push himself too much.