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Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:
M/M

Fandom:
NCT (Band)
Relationship:
Mark Lee/Na Jaemin

Characters:
Mark Lee (NCT), Na Jaemin, NCT
Ensemble, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Lee
Jeno

Additional Tags:
Alternate Universe - College/University,
Unrequited Crush, Angst and
Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content,
Friends With Benefits, Denial of Feelings,
Mental Health Issues, references to
disordered eating, Stigmata, Slow Burn,
Pining, Implied/Referenced Homophobia,
Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega
Dynamics, but the use of it is rather subtle,
i have a love-hate relationship with it,
Self-Acceptance, It Gets Worse Before It
Gets Better, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language:
English
Collections:
Anonymous
Stats:
Published: 2022-02-09 Completed:
2022-03-08 Words: 67000 Chapters:
13/13 Comments: 120 Kudos: 243
Bookmarks: 41 Hits: 4175

Papillon
Anonymous

Chapter 10

Their short trip to the ocean remains what it

was: a fleeting dream that has no place in
reality. Mark stops thinking about it, because
it only hurts and he is tired of falling deeper
into this spiral.

Life goes on as usual. During the day he is

at university, in the evening he meets up
with his friends, and whenever Jeno is
around, Mark can also be guaranteed
Jaemin's presence. They talk more now, but
always very superficially. It's as if they're
just pretending to be friends, while the next
moment, when no one is looking, they're
pushing each other into dark hallways,
kissing with a fierceness that wasn't there
before. As if they both knew that a bomb lies
dormant in their chests that could go off at
any moment. As if they were running out of
time, while they have all the time in the
world.

Mark doesn't know what is happening to

him. His feelings for Jaemin are as strong as
ever, they can't just be discarded like a
worn-out piece of clothing. But somehow his
mind seems to slowly grasp that what he is
doing is absolutely irrational. That there is
no good end in sight and he has to save
himself from the sinking ship while he still
can.

But every time he looks at Jaemin, a painful

twinge hits him in the chest, and all the
words he's so carefully crafted in all those
hours in the shower turn to dust. He is such
a weakling. He can't take care of himself,
has no willpower when it comes to drawing a
line in the sand.

Today is one of those days.

Mark stands in front of his window, gazing

out onto the street. Behind him, his bed is in
chaos, the sheets rumpled and dirty. If he
were to feel over it, he would still be able to
trace Jaemin's warmth. In his mind, he can
still see Jaemin's bare, muscular back facing
him as Jaemin sits on the edge of the bed,
silent. Much too silent. Mark watches the red
bruises blossom like flower petals on
Jaemin's skin, feels the scratch marks on his
own, and again his chest grows tight, so
excruciatingly tight. He imagines Jaemin in
front of him, on all fours, imagines himself
leaning forward, grabbing Jaemin's neck and
fucking harder into him as they both pant
heavily, sweat on their skin, heat, heat
everywhere - and then, as quickly as it
began it's over again, leaving nothing but
gray ash in Mark's throat, on his tongue. As
intoxicating as the high is, the aftermath is
disappointingly numbing. Because now it's
about something more. Somehow Mark
expects more from Jaemin, but from Jaemin
just nothing comes in return. He is as
indifferent as ever, maybe jokes a bit, cleans
up, and leaves. He has no feelings for Mark.
Rather, he distances himself, and Mark can
feel it. But why? Does he regret showing
Mark his vulnerable side so many times
now?

Down there Jaemin stands now, lonely,

smokes and runs his fingers through his hair,
while Mark watches him from the shadows.

"He's not going to change no matter how

long I wait for him, is he?" Mark whispers as
Jaemin stubs out the cigarette and tosses it
into the nearest trash can. Then, Jaemin
stops in his tracks, as if undecided and
unsure where to go now, and probably he
really doesn't know. After all, there is
nothing he calls home. A stray cat,
sometimes here, sometimes there, but
staying nowhere really long. Maybe it is
wrong of Mark to want to capture him. If
they were friends, Jaemin wouldn't be down
there right now but still by his side. The
realization is a sobering one for Mark and
the last spark of hope in him grows smaller
and smaller.

A little later the doorbell rings and despite all

reason Mark can't help but expect Jaemin.
Maybe he has changed his mind and wants
to spend the evening with Mark, sit with him
in front of the TV while they rate some
people of some crazy dating show as if they
were inveterate judges. Mark needs to finally
stop with these disillusioned wishes and
concede the possibility that he and Jaemin
are simply not compatible as friends. Jaemin
never invites him to spend time doing
something with just the two of them, and
Mark's cautious hints have been lightly
rejected by Jaemin without giving any real
reason. It upsets Mark, there's no question
about it. But if he doesn't try now he will
regret it - only how long is he willing to keep
trying before the price gets too high for him?
Sometimes he wishes he hadn't let Jaemin
wrap him around his finger so easily.

Of course, it is not Jaemin who faces him as

he opens the door. Mark looks at Renjun,
whose gaze is cool and reserved, yet there is
a gentle warmth in his eyes. It's been a
while since they've been alone with each
other. Renjun has been very busy lately with
studies, part-time jobs, and his singing
lessons, and even rarely comes to their
meetups.

"Hey Mark," Renjun greets with a thin smile.

"Renjun, hey, Donghyuck isn't here," Mark

says, surprised when Renjun nevertheless
pushes past him into their apartment.

"I know," Renjun says, "The one I wanted to

talk to is you."

"Did something happen?" Now slightly

worried, Mark follows Renjun, who heads for
the kitchen and sets to work making coffee.
Renjun leans against the counter and turns
to Mark, crossing his arms. Renjun gets
straight to the point without hesitation.

"I know Jaemin and you fuck."

All blood drains from Mark's face. His palms

are covered in a thin film of sweat and he
doesn't know what he can say - he won't
argue. Not with Renjun, not with one of his
best friends. So Mark simply drops his gaze
to the ground as his heart quivers, in fear,
and in relief, too, that the truth is out and he
doesn't have to carry it alone anymore.

"How did you find out?" Mark asks quietly,

not looking at Renjun, but feeling his gaze
on him like a wary hawk.

"After you guys just took off on that sudden

run, I talked to Donghyuck," Renjun says as
the coffee machine rattles in his back.
Otherwise, nothing can be heard, the
evening quiet. "Donghyuck really didn't
know shit. But I think he persuaded himself
that it couldn't be. When he told me all the
strange things he'd observed between you
and Jaemin, it was clear what was going on.
Donghyuck is too close to you to have been
able to tell right away. Or to want to."

Mark takes a deep breath. Holds it.

Releases. "So what now?" he asks, peering
over at Renjun.

"I don't want to tell you what to do," Renjun

says, "but if you want my advice: stay away
from Jaemin. Jaemin doesn't commit to
anything or anyone. And you're hurt, anyone
can see that just by taking a look at your
face. Let him go, Mark. It's not worth all the
drama. You'll find someone else who really
appreciates you for who you are. For Jaemin,
the whole thing is just a game, that's the
way he is. Unfortunately, everybody falls for
him over and over again."

"I don't think Jaemin means it, he doesn't

want to hurt anyone," Mark musters weakly
and Renjun's face darkens.

"You're still defending him?"

"No, I just think ..." Mark breaks off. Renjun

is right. He's chasing a phantom. "I don't
know. I'm confused."

Renjun touches him on the arm. "Listen, we

just don't want you to end up being the one
who suffers the most from everything."

"Is Hyuck mad at me?"

"No, not anymore," Renjun soothes. "He's

just feeling down that it's you two, of all
people, who have ended up so.... attracted
to each other. He likes you guys a lot, but
somehow he also thinks this can't work out
for long."

"I'm sorry about that."

"I can't make a decision for you, Mark, but

do you really know what you're putting
yourself through right now?"

Mark lets out a shaky sigh. "Yes, I know

exactly what I'm doing. Give me some time
and I'll sort it out."

"You don't have to do this for our sake,"

Renjun says calmly. "But for yours."

Mark struggles to give an apologetic smile.

"I really screwed up, didn't I?"

"Nobody blames you," Renjun says with a

shrug, sipping his coffee and offering Mark
one too, who declines. "It was just
unexpected. I didn't think you had it in you
to meet with Na Jaemin in secret. Do you
really have any idea who he is?"

"I know the rough idea," Mark says, pulling

his shoulders up to his ears as Renjun's eyes
narrow. Mark tried. And he thinks he's
gotten a little further with Jaemin than most
manage. But should he keep it up? Should
he slowly cull every last shred of information
out of Jaemin?

"Let's drop this topic for today," Renjun

finally decides. "Are you hungry? Let me
treat you."

"Sounds good," Mark agrees, wanting to

escape from the apartment, from his room
where the smell of Jaemin still lingers. By
now, Mark seems to smell him almost always
and everywhere, in every piece of his
clothing, in the subway, on campus. It
makes him all fuzzy and diffuse, and all too
often he zones out when he's talking to
someone, just because he imagines he's
spotted Jaemin in the crowd. It's so, so
frustrating what one person can do to him.
It's as if he deliberately fell into a trap just
because the bait looked too delicious to
listen to his own common sense.

"I'm really happy for you guys," Mark says,

giving first Johnny's fiancé a hug, and then
Johnny, who squeezes him so tightly, Mark
gasps for air.

"Thanks little brother," Johnny says, his eyes

sparkling with a pride Mark has never seen
him display before. This must be what it
feels like when everything in life goes
according to plan. When you decide to start
a family that you love and can take care of.
Johnny has earned it. As the oldest, he has
had it the toughest in their family, fighting
his way to his goal with iron discipline and
standing his ground. He makes their mother
very, very happy with the news, happier
than Mark ever could and Mark is glad for
that. It's like Johnny has lifted a burden
from them by being the first to make a long-
lasting commitment to another human
being, and his omega wife is truly stunning.
Kind, intelligent and articulate, plus very
warm and considerate. She often brings
Mark little homemade gifts when she visits
and he knows she will be a wonderful
mother. The two of them make a great
couple. So do Jaehyun and his girlfriend,
who have already expressed their
congratulations to Johnny.

Next to them, Mark feels like a third wheel,

even though he tries hard to be as cheerful
and enthusiastic as ever. But his smile is
strained, any fool can see that he is not
comfortable here. His father is the first to
notice that something is wrong, but waits
until after dinner to address Mark.

Mark has been very quiet. Has tried to listen

actively, but his thoughts kept wandering.
He imagined Jaemin sitting there with his
family and Mark proudly watching him have
an awesome conversation with everyone.
There isn't a person who doesn't like Jaemin
and to know him by his side - it would make
him happy. However, all these fantasies
would fail in the first few seconds if it came
out that Jaemin is an alpha. Mark knows his
parents show it quite clearly when they find
someone inappropriate for one of their sons.
They don't get rude, but cold and extremely
dismissive. That's how they once drove
Johnny's second girlfriend to make a run for
it, who didn't please them at all. They would
probably make short work of Jaemin as well.
Never give him a chance.

"You okay, Mark?" his father asked as their

small group made their way from the
restaurant to Jaehyun's apartment. Mark
unobtrusively fell back to bring up the rear
until his father stopped and waited for him.
"You didn't talk much today."

Mark shrugs, risks a quick glance at his

father's face, and looks ahead again, at
Jaehyun's back. Next, at his hand, which is
intertwined with his fiancée's, and Mark feels
like the biggest loser. The thing is, when he's
with his family, he generally doesn't say
much, when he's not doing well, he says
almost nothing. He feels like his opinion gets
drowned out or he doesn't get noticed, being
the youngest and all. He knows it's because
he never gets proactively involved in all the -
mostly political - topics that are discussed,
but his brothers and mother can get very....
very aggressive in their discussions. Not
physically, but in a way that makes you
afraid of getting caught between the fronts.
Today it was all about the approaching
wedding and the baby. And since Mark has
absolutely no idea about either of these
things, he just nodded along, glancing at
Jaehyun again and again, but Jaehyun, too,
seemed to be bubbling over with
enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just been a little stressed

lately," Mark says. "But I've got it all under
control. It's going to get better soon."

"Are you sure?" His father doesn't believe

him, obviously. Mark always wonders why
his father has the finer antennae when it
comes to his mental state than his mother,
who raised him.

Mark forces himself to smile. "Yeah, it's all

good."

His father nods thoughtfully. "If not, come to

me and we'll talk about it."

"Okay, thanks dad."

They walk on in silence. Mark never quite

knows what to talk about with his father.
They don't have any hobbies or friends in
common. His father probably doesn't mind
the silence, but Mark's skin itches, and his
mind searches so frantically for a topic of
conversation that he shuts down altogether.

"How are the ladies treating you, Mark?" his

father asks noncommittally, but he doesn't
manage to sound quite as casual as he
intended.

"There's nothing worth telling," Mark replies

curtly. At least nothing that his family should
know about. What he does with whom in
which bed is really nobody's business.

"Aren't you interested at all?" his father

probes further, and a slight irritation rises in
Mark.

Yes, I am interested, he wants to reply. But

as it always is in life, you don't get the one
you want. And you don't want the one who
is courting you.

"I go on dates from time to time," Mark lies.

"But no one really catches my interest."

His father hums as if he understands and

doesn't at the same time. Of course, he had
met Mark's mother when she was eighteen.
They married two years later, and after three
more, their first son was born. Everything
seemed to go so smoothly for the two of
them then, maybe they consider Mark a
reclusive spinster. He doesn't want to know
what his parents talk about him when he's
not around, how they worry that there might
be something wrong with him.

"You know," his father finally says, carefully,

as if Mark were made of glass, "you can be
happy without a partner. Some people have
trouble with romantic relationships, or can't
form them. It happens. Like your aunt, she
has friends and goes traveling and that
seems to be enough for her. But when you
get old it's better to have someone by your
side. Do you understand, Mark? It's nice to
know I have three sons who can visit me in
the nursing home one day."

Mark doesn't remember what he said in

response, too busy trying to hold back the
tears. Since he cried in the shower after his
trip with Jaemin, he seems to have opened
some gateway to his soul, because he wasn't
that emotional and sensitive before. He
doesn't like it, this state of limbo he's in. He
just knows that his parents are starting to
kind of give up on him and it hurts. But isn't
that what he wanted? That they don't care
what he does? His whole situation starts to
confuse him on levels that drive him even
more insane. And even then, he still thinks
about Jaemin.

And whenever Mark thinks he has made a

final decision, Jaemin stays. Doesn't leave
the way he usually does.

Time passes so quickly, Mark can hardly

grasp it anymore, and summer is knocking
at the door. The heat of an early, lazy
afternoon weighs them down, sticking their
skin together and making them sweat so
much that Jaemin's hair, which Mark
clutches, is already all damp, plastered to
his temples, but takes nothing away from his
beauty. Rather, it only accentuates his sinful
vibrancy. He dyed his hair a few weeks ago,
it's a fluffy sky blue now, and Mark adores
the color on him. For his part, Mark keeps
his hair in its natural black, finds it suits him
best.

They take their time, making out on Mark's

bed for a while now. Donghyuck is with
Renjun, will stay there for the rest of the
weekend. Mark knows why. They haven't
brought it up, but Donghyuck seems to get a
whiff of when Jaemin is going to show up,
and not just to play a round of Monopoly.

"Mark," Jaemin moans against his lips as

Mark's hands run over his body, dragging his
shirt up as he does so, until both of Jaemin's
nipples are exposed. Mark takes one of them
in his mouth, sucking, Jaemin bucking up
and pushing against him, the friction of their
hard cocks against each other as delicious
and reviving as an ice-cold shower after
escaping the scorching heat of the
approaching August.

Mark pops the button on Jaemin's pants,

pulls them down with his boxers just far
enough to free Jaemin's cock, and presses
his palm against it. Jaemin gasps, making
sounds that are so unholy, Mark wants to
kiss him for the rest of his life if it means he
can hear them over and over again.

Mark's hand trails up the entire length of

Jaemin's cock, cups the head, and slides a
finger over the slit, squeezing lightly as he
massages it and Jaemin beneath him
completely falls apart. Jaemin squirms,
whimpers, kisses Mark even harder, and
Mark lets go of his cock. Jaemin's throat
elicits a small protesting sound, and Mark's
hand flattens again against the firm muscles
of Jaemin's abs, smearing the precome,
smiling against Jaemin's lips.

Being in control of Jaemin, even if only in

bed, is an exhilarating feeling, and today is
one of the few days when Jaemin surrenders
himself and his body to Mark unconditionally,
complies with his movements and melts
under his touch, so needy that the little
sadist Mark can sometimes be surfaces. He
twirls Jaemin's right nipple so hard it must
hurt, but Jaemin embraces the pain.

"Please, Mark, I can't… it's too much, I - '' A

loud moan cuts off Jaemin's voice as Mark
grips his cock again with a firm hold that
pays little heed to Jaemin's slipping state.

"You can't what?" Mark whispers softly,

opening his eyes and looking directly into
Jaemin's glazed gaze as if he were ten feet
underwater. "You can't wait like a good boy
does?"

Jaemin bites his bottom lip, turning his head

to the side and shaking it ever so slightly.
Mark's smile widens.

"You promised me you'd be patient. Not to

come until I allowed you to," Mark says and
rips Jaemin's jeans and boxers down until
they are caught somewhere on his knees.

Mark climbs over Jaemin, pins his hands

down on either side of him, and they
exchange a long look, gauging each other.
Jaemin's chest heaves under rapid, labored
breaths, and he looks stunning like that,
Mark diving down and biting his way up
Jaemin's throat while feeling for the lube
with one hand. As he releases Jaemin to
straighten up, Jaemin sheds his clothes,
Mark's following, and as Mark rubs the lube
between his hands, slowly warming it up, he
swats aside Jaemin's fingers trying to touch
him.

"Stop it, Jaemin."

"But Mark - "

"I said no," Mark says in a low voice. "You're

not supposed to touch me. Or do you want
me to cuff your hands to the headboard? Be
quiet and listen."

In response, Jaemin actually keeps his

mouth shut, even as Mark guides two fingers
down and circles Jaemin's rim, slowly,
teasingly, while Jaemin's muscles are
strained to bursting. Mark looks up at him.
Jaemin's eyes are squeezed shut, his nipples
still hard, and as Mark blows his breath over
Jaemin's cock, a faint whimper escapes
Jaemin. Mark uses the moment of distraction
to slide a finger inside. Jaemin complies,
raising his hips, and Mark's finger inches
deeper, making fleeting contact with the one
spot giving Jaemin such pleasure.

"Don't move," Mark says, and Jaemin

immediately stops slowly rolling his hips.
"That's right. Exactly like that."

Mark begins with leisurely, almost sloppy

thrusts of his two fingers inside, feeling up
Jaemin's hot walls. Now and then his
fingertips brush at just the right angle, and
Jaemin arches his back. Biting his index
finger to stifle his moans, Jaemin's hands
grope around the bed, looking for something
to hold on to, anything, ruffling the sheets
only further, and his legs shake as Mark
delivers a particularly hard, precise thrust
against his prostate.

Mark adds a third finger, watching Jaemin

stretch wider around them, taking Jaemin's
cock in his mouth and swallowing it until it
hits his throat. Jaemin's strong thighs flex as
he plants them on the bed, glancing down at
Mark who's settled between his legs and
uttering a low curse.

Immediately Mark shoves his fingers into

him hard, silencing him, Jaemin's cock
slipping out of his mouth. Mark continues to
press his tongue against the underside of
Jaemin's cock, feeling the thick veins, before
Jaemin's cock falls back against his stomach,
flushed and hard, coated in Mark's spit. Mark
resists the urge to lean up and kiss Jaemin,
to let him taste himself, and instead bites a
trail of little kisses and nibbles down
Jaemin's thigh, and really, that should be
another red flag. But he ignores it. It's not
time yet. Not yet.

Inserting a fourth finger into Jaemin, Mark

picks up the pace until Jaemin can't keep
still any longer and pathetically cut off,
rough and low sounds erupt from his throat.
Mark sucks his cock again just in time as he
fucks his fingers into Jaemin, deliberately
hitting Jaemin's sweet spot over and over
again, twisting and curving his fingers until
he catches the signs of Jaemin's approaching
orgasm. As far as that goes, they know each
other inside and out and it only takes a few
sharp thrusts from Mark's finger into his hole
and Jaemin comes in Mark's mouth. Mark
forgets to breathe for a moment, but then
swallows Jaemin's load and pulls off his cock
with a wet pop.

Mark can see the problem. In a normal

hookup with casual sex, the goal should be
to pursue one's own share of sexual
satisfaction. With Jaemin things are
different. Mark could make a living just
giving Jaemin what he wants without
touching himself. He could already get off
watching Jaemin enjoy Mark's touches,
that's how painfully hard his own cock is
right now. He doesn't mind, even though
Jaemin always makes sure he doesn't come
up short. Not even today, because when
Jaemin wakes up from his high, he gives
Mark an intense and thorough blowjob, after
which they lounge in bed for a while. They
end up going for a round two, with Mark
fucking him in lazy, uncoordinated thrusts,
taking all the time in the world, while the
sun breaks through the blinds, the air thick
and charged with heat, and the day never-
ending.

Afterwards Mark thinks to himself, as

always: Am I really giving you enough with
this? Wouldn't an alpha with a bigger dick be
better for you? Are you really satisfied or are
you just playing me? Are you okay with the
fact that we never switch?

Mark is drowsing on the couch, fanning

himself with a pizza flyer because their air
conditioner is working rather poorly, when
Jaemin emerges from the bathroom, dressed
only in boxers. Water is dripping from his
hair, running down the back of his neck.
Carelessly, he flops onto the free spot next
to Mark, so sweepingly that Mark is almost
thrown to the floor.

"Sorry," Jaemin says with a charming grin

and sinks deeper into the cushions, visibly
relaxed, sighing. "Shall we go get some ice
cream?"

Mark opens one eye and peers at Jaemin,

arms crossed laxly on his chest. "Don't we
have any left in the freezer?"

"Hyuck ate the last one yesterday. Got in a

fight with Jeno over it." Jaemin stretches out
his legs, crossing his ankles. "The worst of
the heat should be over."

"I just took a shower and I'm sweating

again," Mark complains, tugging at his shirt,
which clings to his body like a second skin.

"We've been doing some proper exercise,

though," Jaemin says, looking down at Mark
until their eyes meet.

"I wouldn't exactly call it exercise what we

did today." Mark breaks eye contact. "You
barely moved a muscle."

Jaemin smiles. "But it wasn't any less good,

right?"

Rolling his eyes, Mark swings up to sit.

"Well, now that I think about it, you can
definitely treat me to an ice cream as a
reward."

"Watermelon?"

Mark gives Jaemin a small nudge against his

shoulder and stands up. "Damn right,
watermelon it is."

Side by side, they stroll to the nearest

supermarket, and Jaemin buys him the ice
cream he promised. They seek shelter on a
park bench in the shade of a tree, and Mark,
lost in thought, peels the ice cream out of its
wrapper, pops it into his mouth, and a flavor
explosion of artificial watermelon and sugar
sends him heavenward. Jaemin next to him
has done the same, gazing up at the sky and