Archive of Our Own

The practice room was dimly lit, the only sounds left being the occasional scuff of sneakers against the floor and heavy breathing as the members cooled down. 

It had been a grueling dance session, and exhaustion weighed down on all of them. Haechan wiped the sweat from his forehead, sighing as he let his body slump onto the floor beside Mark.

Instinctively, he leaned in, just enough to rest his head against Mark’s shoulder, seeking something small, something familiar. But the moment he did, Mark tensed.

“Bro, you’re all sweaty,” Mark muttered, shifting away.

Haechan barely had a chance to register it before Mark was already on his feet, walking across the room.

Not even five minutes later, Haechan watched as Mark plopped down next to Yuta, all casual, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then, just as easily, Mark leaned his head against Yuta’s shoulder, eyes slipping shut in exhaustion.

Haechan felt something squeeze tight in his chest. Yuta was sweaty too. They all were after that practice. 

It wasn’t the first time. He’d noticed it before. How Mark always dodged his touch but never seemed to mind Yuta’s. How Mark barely let him hold onto him for more than a second but let Yuta drape an arm around him like it was nothing. Haechan swallowed, feeling something bitter settle in his throat.

He didn’t say anything. He just let the moment pass, like always.

The truth of the matter was a little more simple to understand. Haechan may have a bit of a crush on Mark, and he just wants Mark to notice him… to be there for him. But Mark doesn’t seem to want that. Mark is always running to Yuta, aiming for his attention instead, leaving Haechan in the background. 

In honest words, Haechan felt left out, lonely, discarded even. He felt upset, jealous, and a bit irritated. It was like no matter how hard he tried, he was never good enough for Mark to acknowledge. 

But just like anyone who has a crush, Haechan still wanted Mark’s attention. Maybe he was a little delusional, but most of the time he wasn’t even trying to be overly touchy… that’s just how he was with everyone, which honestly made it more painful. 

Haechan watched from the side as Yuta said something that had Mark literally laughing his ass off. How Mark leaned in closer to Yuta. He just looked away. 

—

The dorm was warm with the glow of the TV, the sound of a movie filling the space between the group. Everyone was scattered across the couch and floor, wrapped in blankets, half-focused on the screen. Haechan had taken the open spot beside Mark without thinking much of it, he always did. It was just a habit and it was the only open space left on the couch. But just as he settled into the blankets, Yuta glanced over.

“Hey, can I sit there instead?” Yuta asked, his tone light.

Haechan shrugged. “Nah, I’m comfortable.” He wasn’t trying to be difficult—he just didn’t feel like moving.

But then Mark, right beside him, spoke up. “Haechan, just get up. I wanna sit next to Yuta.”

Something in his chest cracked.

For a second, Haechan just sat there, staring at Mark who just looked at him expectantly. He didn’t argue, didn’t ask for more clarification, just let the words sink in before quietly slipping off the couch, settling onto the floor instead. 

The movie played on, but Haechan barely heard any of it. The only thing he could focus on was the soft laughter behind him, the way Mark kept nudging Yuta, whispering things that made them both giggle. Every now and then, he caught movement in the corner of his eye—Mark leaning into Yuta, their heads close, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

And for some reason, Haechan couldn’t sit through it. He couldn’t even focus on the movie at that point. 

Halfway through the movie, he got up without a word, stepping over tangled limbs and scattered blankets as he slipped out of the room. No one called after him. He didn’t expect them to.

He just needed to breathe.

Haechan went straight to his bed, curled up on his side, staring at the wall. The room was dark except for the faint glow from the hallway slipping under the door. He hadn’t bothered turning on any lights, he just climbed into bed and let the silence settle over him.

He wasn’t sobbing. He wasn’t even sniffling. But tears slipped down his cheeks anyway, warm and quiet, trailing into his pillow. He didn’t know why, and he couldn’t stop them. Well, maybe he knew the reason. 

Yeah, he was jealous. But more than that, he just felt lonely.

Why couldn’t Mark be like that with him? Why was it always Yuta? Why was it so easy for Mark to touch him, to laugh with him, but the second Haechan tried, he was always pushed away? Thrown away, actually. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to breathe. It was stupid. He shouldn’t be thinking about it so much. He shouldn’t be crying about something so dumb, but he couldn’t help it. 

The sound of the door opening made him tense. He heard the rustle of fabric as Mark stepped inside, the soft thud of the door clicking shut behind him. Yeah, they shared a room. 

For a moment, there was just silence. Then—

“Why’d you leave early?” Mark asked, his voice casual, like he wasn’t expecting anything weird. He saw Haechan’s eyes were open. 

Haechan didn’t say anything. He just turned onto his side, away from the door, pulling the blanket up slightly, hoping Mark couldn’t see any reflections on his tears or something stupid like that. He didn’t feel like talking. Especially not with Mark. Not right now. 

“Hello?” Mark tried again, sounding confused now. “You good?”

Haechan swallowed, his voice coming out quieter than he expected. “I was trying to sleep.”

Mark didn’t say anything at first.

Then—

“Okay…?” He still sounded confused. Like he didn’t get it.

Haechan shut his eyes, willing his voice to stay steady. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped talking to me.”

Silence.

Then a shuffle of movement, the sound of Mark moving toward his own bed. Haechan didn’t turn around. He just kept staring at the wall, waiting for the room to go quiet again.

Mark on the other hand was left confused, unsure as to why Haechan was acting so strange. He wondered if he did something to annoy him, but couldn’t think of anything so he just went to sleep. 

—

The smell of breakfast filled the dorm, the faint sound of chatter carrying from the kitchen as Haechan finally dragged himself out of bed. His eyes still felt heavy, his body weighed down with that lingering sadness from last night. He wasn’t sure if it would go away anytime soon. His eyes still felt slightly wet, if that were possible. They were probably red too. He shook his head and got up. 

When he stepped into the kitchen, most of the members were already gathered around the table, eating and talking like it was just another morning.

“Haechan, over here,” Doyoung called, nodding toward the open seat beside him. “I made you a plate.”

Haechan blinked, something in his chest loosening just slightly.

It was such a small thing, Doyoung saving him a seat, thinking of him before he even got here, but it felt nice. Like he wasn’t just drifting in the background. Doyoung was always like that.

Without thinking, Haechan stepped forward and hugged Doyoung from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. It wasn’t anything unusual since he was always like this, but he held on for a second longer than usual, just letting himself feel the warmth of it.

Doyoung huffed, though he didn’t push him off. “Eat first, cling later.”

Haechan pulled away and sat down, picking up his chopsticks. He kept his head down, focusing on his plate. He didn’t really feel like talking to anyone.

Across the table, Mark kept glancing at him. While sitting next to Yuta, by the way. 

Haechan could feel it—the way Mark’s eyes kept flickering toward him, the silent confusion hanging between them from last night. But he didn’t acknowledge it. He just ate in silence, staring at his food, refusing to meet Mark’s gaze.

Whatever Mark was thinking, whatever he wanted to ask—Haechan wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

Time passed, but nothing really changed.

The next few days blurred together between schedules and practices, and even though Haechan tried to brush it off, it stuck with him. That dull ache. The silent question of why.

Every time he saw Yuta and Mark together, he just got jealous or upset. 

During yet another dance practice, they were working on formations—tight, complicated ones that had them all brushing past each other. It wasn’t anything new. Accidental touches were normal.

But when Haechan’s hand grazed Mark’s arm as he adjusted his position, Mark immediately shoved it off with a quick flick of his own hand.

“Dude,” Mark said, laughing a little like it was playful, like it was just casual teasing.

But it wasn’t teasing to Haechan. Not when he caught, out of the corner of his eye, Yuta stepping right in without hesitation, resting an arm lazily around Mark’s shoulders as they waited for the next cue. And Mark? Mark didn’t even flinch. He didn’t move away. He leaned into it like it was natural.

Haechan felt his chest tighten again. The sting was sharp, but he bit it back, pretending to adjust his mic pack as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

Doyoung, who had been watching quietly from the sidelines, seemed to catch the subtle shift—the way Haechan’s shoulders drooped, the way his energy dropped like a stone.

Without saying anything, Doyoung walked over during a short break and let Haechan quietly lean into him. Haechan didn’t even hesitate this time, resting his head against Doyoung’s shoulder as they sat against the mirror.

Doyoung didn’t ask. He didn’t need to.

Haechan just stayed like that for a while, letting himself take what comfort he could get, even if it wasn’t from the person he wanted it from most.

—

A little time passes and a meeting was called to form a new NCT U unit for an upcoming song. Haechan was going to be in the unit and a meeting was being held to discuss the members. The room was filled with quiet conversation as everyone settled in. Haechan took a seat, drumming his fingers against the table as he glanced around at the others. Mark sat across from him, but Haechan didn’t bother looking his way. He found he felt sad even looking at Mark. 

He was more focused on the fact that Sungchan was here.

Ever since Sungchan had been added to NCT, the two of them had clicked almost instantly. Sungchan was easy to talk to, fun to be around, and Haechan liked how he laughed at his jokes without hesitation.

So when the managers announced that they’d be promoting 90’s Love together—alongside Mark, Yangyang, Jeno, Winwin, and Ten—Haechan couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” Haechan teased, nudging Sungchan with his elbow. Sungchan could easily distract Haechan from his sadness. He was just what he needed. 

Sungchan grinned. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Haechan beamed, already feeling lighter.

Across the table, Mark shifted slightly in his seat. Ever since Sungchan joined NCT, Mark noticed how close he and Haechan had gotten. How if Sungchan was in the room, Haechan would basically just ignore or forget about him. His eyes flickered toward them, but he didn’t say anything. 

Haechan didn’t notice. 

The first dance practice for 90’s Love was in full swing, the beat pulsing through the studio as they ran through the choreography a couple times. Everyone had learned it pretty quickly and they all already had a good start on it. The energy was high, everyone getting into the groove, but for Haechan, the best part was getting to be around Sungchan and the other members he didn’t see often because of their schedules. Especially Sungchan though. 

Sungchan, who never pushed him away.

Throughout practice, Haechan found himself naturally clinging to him—draping an arm over his shoulder when they took a break, leaning against him while they waited for instructions, even playfully holding onto his wrist when they walked back to their spots. And Sungchan? He never minded. If anything, he just laughed, sometimes throwing an arm around Haechan in return.

It felt easy. It felt nice.

And it wasn’t like Haechan was avoiding Mark. He wasn’t.

In NCT 127 every time he glanced over, Mark was always off with someone else. Always lingering near Yuta. Always acting like Haechan barely existed.

So why should he keep trying? It wasn’t really like that though, he just hadn’t had the opportunity to be near Mark recently because of how Mark is always with Yuta. Even in this unit, Mark never seemed to seek Haechan out. 

If Mark was going to act like he didn’t care, then fine. Haechan wouldn’t say anything. He wouldn’t push for something that clearly wasn’t wanted. He resigned himself to that, but he still wished that Mark would talk to him more, or even just pay him on the shoulder or something. Even just tap him to ask him a question, to show him he wasn’t avoiding him or disgusted by him. Anything. 

Now, he’d just focus on Sungchan—on the time they had together in this unit, because once this song was over, they wouldn’t see each other as often, unfortunately.

And honestly? That was a shame. Because being around Sungchan was nice. It didn’t hurt.

—

As promotions for the new unit began, the group was taking part in interviews, performances, and things like that. Today was no different, another interview. 

The interview had been going smoothly, filled with laughter and easy banter as the group answered questions about 90’s Love and their experience working together. They were all comfortable, the energy light, until the interviewer threw out a more personal, fun question.

“So, who’s your favourite member in this unit?” They asked in a teasing voice. 

The group chuckled, a few jokingly groaning at the difficulty of the question. One by one, they went around giving their answers. Some picked based on dance skills, others on who made them laugh the most. Some gave silly reasons for their choices too. 

When it got to Haechan, he barely had to think.

“Sungchan,” he said casually, grinning as he slung an arm around Sungchan’s shoulders. “He’s my favourite rookie. Gotta show him some love, you know?”

Sungchan laughed, nudging him playfully, and the others reacted with amused comments.

But Mark?

Mark was looking at them, his expression unreadable at first—until his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes flickering between them. There was something almost sharp in his gaze, but Haechan didn’t notice.

Then it was Mark’s turn.

Mark hesitated for half a second before answering. “Haechan.”

That made Haechan pause.

His head turned toward Mark, eyes narrowing slightly as he raised an eyebrow. The expression wasn’t playful—it was questioning, almost like he was skeptical. Like he thought Mark was lying.

Mark met his gaze, and for the first time, it hit him.

That’s how Haechan saw him.

As someone who would lie about this. As someone who wouldn’t choose him.

The realization sat heavy in Mark’s chest, but before he could dwell on it, the conversation moved on.

Still, even as they answered the next set of questions, Mark couldn’t help but glance toward Haechan again—this time, watching the way he leaned into Sungchan, the way Sungchan easily let him.

And for the first time in a long time, Mark realized he didn’t like seeing that. He didn’t like seeing Haechan being so touchy with someone else. Haechan usually was clingy with him… but now that he thought about it, that hadn’t been happening recently. Haechan just went straight to Sungchan. 

Back at the dorm, the energy from the interview had worn off, and the members slowly retreated to their rooms for the night. Haechan sat at the edge of his bed, stretching his arms as he let out a quiet yawn.

Mark had been silent the whole way back, something clearly on his mind. And now, as he stood in front of Haechan, looking down at him, he finally spoke.

“Since when were you so close to Sungchan?”

Haechan blinked up at him, tilting his head slightly. His expression was naturally soft, his round eyes wide with innocent confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Mark let out a small scoff, crossing his arms. “I mean, you’re always with him. Since when did you start choosing him over me?”

Haechan furrowed his brows. “Choosing him?”

Mark ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “We were supposed to be best friends. But lately, you don’t even make time for me anymore. You’re always with Sungchan.”

Haechan just stared at him, still sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs swinging slightly. He wasn’t sure what Mark was getting at—wasn’t this exactly what Mark wanted?

Mark took a step closer, lowering his voice slightly. “Are you avoiding me?”

Haechan looked up at him for a long moment, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to say something.

But he didn’t.

Because what was he supposed to say to that? That it wasn’t avoiding if he was just tired of being pushed away?

Mark’s eyes narrowed slightly, his frustration evident. “Are you avoiding me?” he asked again, firmer this time.

Haechan held his gaze for a moment before looking away, his fingers curling against the blanket beneath him. “I don’t want to tell you.”

Mark let out a sharp breath, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “Why not?” His voice was tight, laced with irritation.

Haechan’s jaw clenched. “You should already know.”

That made Mark pause. His brows furrowed, his arms dropping from his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Haechan finally looked back at him, his own frustration bubbling up. “Are you serious?” He let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. “Figure it out yourself.”

Mark took a step closer, his patience wearing thin. “Just say it, Haechan.”

“You’re the one who started this,” Haechan snapped, standing up abruptly. “You’re the one who kept pushing me away—”

“I did not push you away.”

Haechan scoffed. “Oh, really? So I imagined all those times you flinched when I touched you? Or when you told me to move just so you could sit next to Yuta instead?”

Mark stiffened, his lips parting like he wanted to say something—but he didn’t.

Haechan’s eyes were burning, his chest tightening. “You never wanted me around, so I stopped actively trying. That’s all.”

Mark exhaled sharply through his nose, stepping forward again. “That’s not all.”

Mark’s voice grew a bit louder, frustration seeping into his tone. “You should’ve told me if something was wrong, Haechan!” He was close now, so close that Haechan could feel his heat radiating, a tension thick between them. “We’re supposed to be best friends. We’re supposed to talk, but you just kept everything to yourself!”

Haechan could feel his heart racing, the words stinging more than he wanted to admit. Mark wasn’t fully wrong, but still. He stepped back slightly as Mark took another step forward, his back pressing against the wall.

Mark didn’t stop. His eyes were blazing with a mix of hurt and irritation, and his voice was almost raw now. “It’s like you just started choosing Sungchan over me. Is that it? Are you jealous of how much time I’m spending with the others? Because I’m definitely jealous of how much you’re with him. So don’t act like I’m the only one who’s been pushing anyone away.”

Haechan’s breath hitched as he met Mark’s gaze, his chest tightening. He couldn’t help the words that came out next, his voice low and sharp. “Yeah, maybe I was jealous. Maybe I was tired of being ignored, while you… while you always went to Yuta, or whoever else. So, yeah—I spent time with Sungchan.”

Mark’s eyes narrowed, and for a split second, Haechan could see the storm in his eyes, a mix of confusion and something more. It was too much, too many emotions swirling between them. But Mark wasn’t backing down, his chest barely an inch from Haechan’s now.

“You could’ve told me that,” Mark hissed, his voice barely a whisper, but the anger was unmistakable. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you if you don’t even let me know what’s going on.”

Haechan opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his eyes flicked downward—just for a moment—towards Mark’s lips. The brief glance felt like an electric shock to his system, and his heart skipped a beat.

Mark noticed.

His eyes flicked down to Haechan’s eyes, then back to his lips, his own breathing shallow now. The air between them suddenly felt thick, charged with something that wasn’t just anger anymore.

Haechan’s heart raced, a soft flush creeping up his neck, but he didn’t look away. He didn’t know how, or why, but the tension was building, suffocating, and his body refused to pull back.

Mark’s gaze held for just a beat too long before he took a step back, his breath unsteady. “What was that?” he asked quietly, his voice quieter than it had been before, but his eyes were still searching Haechan’s face.

Haechan swallowed hard, his mind whirling, his pulse loud in his ears. “Nothing.” He turned his head quickly, his voice betraying him, soft and unsure. “Just forget it.” He just went and basically outed himself for liking Mark, if Mark could even catch onto that. 

But Mark didn’t move. He was still staring at him, the distance between them palpable now, but the space between them had shifted in ways Haechan wasn’t sure he could handle.

“Yeah… I don’t think I can do that.”

Mark reached out, grabbing Haechan’s wrist gently but firmly, stopping him in his tracks as he tried to walk away. His voice was low, his frustration and confusion still clear. “Talk to me, Haechan.”

Haechan let out a sharp breath, his shoulders tense. He pulled his wrist out of Mark’s grip, though not forcefully. “What do you want me to say, Mark?”

“Just talk. What’s going on with you?” Mark’s voice was quieter now, a slight edge still lingering.

Haechan’s gaze flickered downward for a moment before he finally relented, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m… I was jealous.”

Mark’s brow furrowed. “Jealous of what?”

Haechan couldn’t bring himself to look Mark in the eyes as he spoke. “Jealous of you and Yuta. You hug him, lean on his shoulder, hold his hand. You probably even kiss him on the cheek if he asks.” He paused, biting his lip before continuing. “But anytime I try to do any of that with you, you push me away. So yeah, I’m jealous.”

Mark blinked, his heart sinking a little as he processed what Haechan had said. He hadn’t realized it at all. “I didn’t know I was doing that… I don’t… I don’t really think about it.”

Haechan scoffed softly, turning slightly away. “Of course you don’t.” His voice cracked a little. “You didn’t even care enough to notice.”

Mark took a step closer, his voice low and edged with frustration. “So what do you want me to do about it, huh? You want me to stop hanging out with Yuta? Is that what you’re asking for?”

Haechan didn’t respond immediately. His fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back the storm of emotions threatening to spill out. Mark could see the hurt in his eyes, the way his chest rose and fell with every shallow breath. “I don’t know, Mark,” Haechan finally said, his voice trembling. “I just… I just want to matter too. I want to be the one you’re close to. But you always go to him. And I’m stuck trying to get your attention, like always.”

Mark stared at him, his own anger simmering just beneath the surface. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, charged with the tension that had been building between them for weeks—maybe months. Mark’s hands clenched at his sides, his muscles tight. You don’t get it, he thought, but the words didn’t make it out of his mouth. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze locking with Haechan’s, the space between them shrinking.

“If I had to make it up to you,” Mark said, his voice soft but laced with something sharp, “I could just do all that now. Hug you. Hold your hand. Maybe even kiss you on the cheek, if you want that.” His tone was teasing, but there was a rawness to it, something that made Haechan’s breath catch.

Haechan’s lips parted slightly, but no words came. He was pouting, his cheeks flushed, and Mark could see the exhaustion in his eyes—the way the hurt had worn him down. Good, a small, angry part of Mark thought. Let him feel it. But another part of him, one he couldn’t quite silence, tightened at the sight of Haechan so vulnerable.

“If you want a kiss so badly,” Mark said, his voice lowering, his gaze dropping to Haechan’s lips, “just say so instead of keeping quiet.”

Haechan’s eyes widened, but before he could respond, Mark closed the distance between them, without even thinking. His hand shot out, gripping Haechan’s chin, tilting his face up. 

The kiss wasn’t gentle—it was hard, demanding, a claim more than an apology. Haechan froze, his body stiffening under Mark’s touch, but Mark didn’t pull away. His lips pressed harder, his grip on Haechan’s chin tightening until Haechan gasped into the kiss.

When Mark finally broke it, his chest was heaving, his eyes darker than before. “That was to make up for it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, his voice rough, though the lie was obvious. This wasn’t about making amends, it was about taking what he wanted, what he’d been holding back for too long.

Haechan stared up at him, his lips swollen, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. He didn’t say anything, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made Mark’s heart pound harder.

Mark didn’t give him time to speak. He kissed him again, this time with even more intensity, his hands moving to grip Haechan’s wrists, pinning them to the wall behind him. The kiss was fierce, desperate, all the anger and jealousy and frustration pouring out of him. Haechan whimpered, a sound that sent a jolt of heat straight to Mark’s core.

“Mark—” Haechan managed to gasp, but Mark cut him off with another kiss, his teeth grazing Haechan’s bottom lip, drawing a sharp inhale from him. Mark’s grip on his wrists tightened, holding him in place as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against Haechan’s, claiming him in a way that left no room for misunderstanding.

When Mark finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his lips tingling from the intensity of the kiss. “Is this what you wanted?” he growled, his voice low and rough. “Is this the attention you’ve been craving?” He was frustrated with Haechan. First he was jealous of Haechan with Sungchan, and Haechan was avoiding him and not telling him there was a problem. But at the same time he was kissing him, tasting him. He couldn’t stop himself. 

Haechan’s eyes were wide, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He didn’t answer, but his body leaned into Mark’s, his wrists still pinned to the wall. That was all the encouragement Mark needed.

He released Haechan’s wrists only to grab him by the waist, pinning him against the wall with his body. Haechan’s back hit the surface with a soft thud, his breath hitching as Mark’s hands slid down to his hips, gripping him tightly.

“Mark, wait—” Haechan started, but Mark wasn’t in the mood to wait. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Haechan’s ear as he spoke, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

“You don’t get to tell me to wait,” Mark said, his breath hot against Haechan’s skin. “You’ve been pushing me, testing me, and now you’re going to take what you’ve been asking for.”

Haechan shivered, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands found their way to Mark’s shoulders, gripping him tightly as Mark’s lips trailed down his neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made Haechan’s knees buckle.

“Mark…” Haechan’s voice was a breathy whisper, more like a whimper, and Mark didn’t stop. His teeth grazed Haechan’s skin, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. Haechan gasped, his fingers digging into Mark’s shoulders.

“There’s going to be marks,” Haechan warned, though there was no real protest in his voice. If anything, he sounded breathless, almost eager. He had no expectations of a confrontation leading to this… Mark was still his crush after all and now this. 

“I know,” Mark groaned, pulling back just enough to meet Haechan’s eyes. “That’s the point. I want Sungchan to see them. I want everyone to know who you’re with.”

Haechan’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with something that made Mark’s stomach twist with need. “I don’t belong to anyone,” Haechan said, though his voice trembled.

Mark’s lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in again, his lips brushing against Haechan’s ear as he spoke. “You’re lying to yourself,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But I’ll make sure you don’t forget it.”

Before Haechan could respond, Mark spun him around, pushing him onto the bed. Haechan landed with a soft thud, his eyes wide as Mark climbed over him, pinning him down with his weight. The air between them crackled with tension, the kind that made it impossible to think, impossible to breathe.

Mark’s hands slid under Haechan’s shirt, his fingers digging into the soft skin of his waist as he leaned down, capturing Haechan’s lips in another searing kiss. It was rough, desperate, all the pent-up emotions pouring out of him as he claimed Haechan’s mouth, his body pressing him into the mattress.

Haechan’s hands clutched at Mark’s body, his nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he kissed back, just as fiercely. The sound of their ragged breaths filled the room, mingling with the soft rustle of fabric as Mark yanked Haechan’s shirt up, throwing it to the side.

Mark’s lips trailed down Haechan’s neck, leaving a trail of bites and kisses that made Haechan arch into him, a soft moan escaping his lips. “Mark—”

“Fuck,” Mark groaned, his hands sliding down to Haechan’s waist, gripping him tightly as he kissed him again, harder this time. The taste of Haechan’s lips was intoxicating, and Mark couldn’t get enough of it.

Haechan whimpered, his hands moving to grip Mark’s hair as Mark’s lips moved lower, trailing down his chest, his teeth scraping against sensitive skin. His lips met Haechan’s nipples, leaving Haechan even more of a mess.

Mark’s hands moved to Haechan’s belt, yanking it open with a sharp tug, the sound of the buckle clinking against the floor. They had never done this together, but it just felt right. 

Haechan’s breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands found their way to Mark’s back, gripping him tightly as Mark’s lips trailed down his chest, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses that made Haechan’s hips buck.

Mark’s hands moved to the button of Haechan’s jeans, his fingers working quickly to undo it before yanking them down, leaving Haechan exposed. The room was silent except for their heavy breathing, the tension between them so thick it felt like it could crack.

Mark’s gaze was dark as he looked down at Haechan, his lips curling into a smirk. He’d never been in this position with Haechan before but he couldn’t deny that he liked it. Him and Haechan were meant to be best friends… but what if they could be more. “I’m going to fuck you,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Haechan’s breath hitched, but he didn’t argue. Instead, his hands clutched at the sheets beneath him as Mark leaned down, his lips brushing against Haechan’s inner thigh, leaving a trail of hot kisses that made Haechan’s entire body tremble.

Mark’s teeth grazed Haechan’s hipbone, leaving a faint mark as his hands dug into the flesh of his thighs. Mark always liked Haechan’s thighs. 

Haechan’s breath hitched, his fingers tangling in the sheets beneath him as he tried to steady himself. Mark’s lips moved lower, his breath hot against Haechan’s skin as he tugged at the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down slowly, inch by inch.

“Mark…” Haechan’s voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. He could feel the heat of Mark’s gaze, the intensity of it burning into him as he was laid bare. 

Mark didn’t respond with words. Instead, he pressed a heated kiss to the sensitive skin just above Haechan’s cock, his tongue flicking out to taste him. Haechan’s hips jerked, a soft moan escaping his lips before he could stop it. Mark’s hands tightened their grip on his thighs, holding him in place as he continued his exploration.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were jealous of Yuta earlier, huh?” Mark’s voice was low, almost growling as he spoke against Haechan’s skin. His lips brushed against the base of Haechan’s cock, sending a shiver through him. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted me to fuck you?”

Haechan’s breath quickened, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to form a response. “I… I don’t know,” he stammered, his voice barely audible.

Mark chuckled darkly, his lips curving into a smirk as he looked up at Haechan. “You don’t know?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “That’s not good enough, Haechan. You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Before Haechan could respond, Mark’s mouth closed around the head of his cock, sucking lightly. Haechan gasped, his back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through him. His hands flew to Mark’s hair, gripping tightly as Mark took him deeper, his tongue swirling around him.

“Oh my…” Haechan whimpered, his hips bucking involuntarily. Mark’s hand moved to his stomach, pressing him back down against the mattress as he continued to work him with his mouth.

Mark pulled off with a wet pop, his hand stroking Haechan’s length as he looked up at him, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re going to be loud for me, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low. “I want everyone to hear you. I want them to know whose cock is in you, whose hands are on you. I want them to know.”

Haechan’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. “Mark, they’ll hear…” he protested weakly, but Mark silenced him with a searing kiss, his tongue pushing into Haechan’s mouth, claiming him.

“Let them hear,” Mark whispered against his lips, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “Let them know what we’re doing, let them know how I make you feel.”

Mark’s lips trailed down Haechan’s chest, nipping and sucking at his skin as he moved lower. His hands gripped Haechan’s hips, holding him still as he pressed a kiss to the inside of his thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there again. Haechan shuddered, a soft whimper escaping his lips as Mark’s mouth moved closer to his cock.

Mark’s tongue flicked out, licking a stripe up the length of Haechan’s cock before taking him into his mouth again. Haechan’s fingers tangled in Mark’s hair, his hips bucking as pleasure overwhelmed him. Mark’s hand moved to his thigh, gripping tightly as he took him deeper, his throat working around him.

“Mark… I… I’m going to…” Haechan’s voice was ragged, broken by gasps and moans as he teetered on the edge. Mark pulled off just as he was about to come, leaving Haechan panting and desperate.

“Not yet,” Mark murmured, his voice rough. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Haechan’s hipbone before moving back up his body, his lips brushing against his ear. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Mark’s hand moved to Haechan’s cock, stroking him slowly as he kissed him, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Haechan whimpered into the kiss, his hips bucking into Mark’s hand as pleasure coursed through him. He wanted to come.

“Tell me you want it,” Mark said, his voice low and demanding. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Haechan’s breath hitched, his mind foggy with desire. “I… I want it…” he whispered, his voice trembling.

Mark smirked, his hand tightening around Haechan’s dick. “Good. Because I’m going to make you scream.”

Mark’s hand moved away, leaving Haechan whining in frustration. He reached for his nightstand, pulling out a bottle of lube and slicking his fingers. Haechan’s breath quickened as Mark’s fingers made their way to his entrance and began to tease, his body tensing in anticipation.

“Relax,” Mark murmured, his breath warm against Haechan’s ear as he pressed a finger inside him. Haechan gasped, his hands clutching at the sheets as Mark worked him open, his fingers moving slowly at first before picking up speed.

“Mark…” Haechan moaned, his hips pushing back against Mark’s hand as pleasure shot through him. Mark added a second finger, stretching him wider as he kissed along Haechan’s neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. Mark never thought he’d see Haechan like this before, but the sight was already burned into his mind. The sounds, taste, everything. 

“You’re so tight,” Mark groaned, his voice thick with desire. “You’re going to feel so good around my dick.”

Haechan’s breath hitched, his body trembling as Mark added a third finger, scissoring him open. His hand moved to Haechan’s cock, stroking him as he continued to work him with his fingers, driving him closer and closer to the edge.

“Mark, please…” Haechan begged, his voice broken by moans. “I need you… please…”

Mark smirked, his lips brushing against Haechan’s ear. “You want me to fuck you?” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

“Yes… yes, please…” Haechan whimpered, his hips bucking against Mark’s hand.

Mark pulled his fingers out, leaving Haechan panting and desperate. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Haechan’s lips before positioning himself at his entrance, the head of his cock pressing against him.

Mark smirked, his hands gripping Haechan’s hips as he pushed inside him, slowly but surely. Haechan’s breath hitched, his back arching as he was filled, inch by inch. Mark’s hands tightened their grip as he bottomed out, his breath hot against Haechan’s ear. Haechan was so tight still, but it felt so good around him, so perfect.

Mark pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in, his pace slow and deliberate. Haechan gasped, his hands clutching at the sheets as pleasure shot through him, Mark was big and he wasn’t starting slow. Mark’s hands moved to his hips, gripping tightly as he began to fuck him in earnest, his thrusts deep and relentless.

“Mark… oh fuck…” Haechan moaned, his voice rising with each thrust. Mark’s lips brushed against his ear, his breath hot as he spoke.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Let them hear you. Let them know who’s fucking you.”

Haechan’s hands flew to Mark’s back, his nails digging into his skin as he tried to hold on. Mark’s thrusts grew harder, faster, driving him closer and closer to the edge. Haechan’s moans grew louder, filling the room as Mark’s cock hit that spot inside him over and over again.

“Mark… I’m going to…” Haechan gasped, his voice broken by moans as he teetered on the edge.

Mark pulled out abruptly, the sudden emptiness making Haechan gasp, his body trembling from the loss of contact. His hands clutched at the sheets beneath him, his chest heaving as he looked up at Mark with wide, pleading eyes. “Mark, please,” he breathed, his voice desperate, frayed at the edges. “Don’t stop.”

Mark didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tight, his breathing ragged as he stared down at Haechan. There was still a fire in his eyes, that lingering anger mixing with something darker, something more possessive. He reached down, gripping Haechan’s hips with a force that made Haechan wince, and flipped him over onto his stomach. Haechan barely had time to register the movement before Mark was yanking him up, pressing him against the wall, his chest flush against the cool surface.

“Mark—” Haechan started, but his words were cut off by Mark’s hand wrapping around his waist, hoisting him up effortlessly. Mark was holding Haechan up against himself, Haechan’s back was arching as Mark slammed into him again, deeper this time, harder. A sharp cry tore from Haechan’s throat, his fingers scrambling against the wall.

“You’re begging for me to let you come?” Mark groaned, his voice low, almost dangerous. His hands pinned Haechan’s wrists above his head, holding him in place as he thrust into him, each movement rough, unrelenting. “You wanted my attention, didn’t you? Here it is.”

Haechan couldn’t form a coherent response, his mind a haze of pleasure and pain as Mark’s cock drove into him over and over again. His moans were loud, unrestrained, filling the room with the sounds of their coupling. He could feel Mark everywhere—the heat of his body pressed against his back, the grip on his wrists, the way his cock stretched him, hitting that spot inside him that made his vision blur.

Mark’s lips crashed down onto Haechan’s as he tilted Haechan’s face towards his own, the kiss fierce, hungry, almost brutal. Haechan whimpered into it, his body writhing against Mark’s as he tried to keep up with the intensity. Mark’s hand moved from his waist, pressing down on Haechan’s stomach, the pressure making Haechan even more sensitive. He could feel Mark inside him, the deep, almost overwhelming sensation driving him closer to the edge.

“Mark—oh oh—please,” Haechan moaned, his voice breaking as Mark’s thrusts became even more relentless. His knees dug into the mattress, his body trembling with the effort to hold on, to stay in a semi-lifted position. 

Mark’s lips moved to Haechan’s ear, his breath hot against his skin as he whispered, “You feel that?” His hand still over Haechan’s stomach. “That’s me. No one else could make you feel like this. No one else could fuck you like this.” His voice was rough, possessive, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust that made Haechan cry out.

Haechan’s moans grew louder, more desperate, his body trembling as he teetered on the edge of release. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with their heavy breathing and the occasional creak of the wall and bed as Mark’s thrusts pushed Haechan harder against it.

“Come on, baby,” Mark growled, his voice thick with desire. “Let go. I want to feel you come around me.”

Haechan’s back arched, his body tensing as the pleasure overwhelmed him. He came with a cry, his release spilling between them as Mark continued to thrust into him, driving him through the waves of his orgasm. The intensity of it left Haechan breathless, his body limp against the wall as Mark finally stilled inside him.

But Mark wasn’t done. He pulled out again, leaving Haechan gasping, before flipping him around to face him. Haechan’s legs barely had time to wrap around Mark’s waist again before Mark was slamming back into him, his hands gripping Haechan’s hips hard enough to leave bruises.

“No one else gets to touch you like this. No one else gets to make you feel like this.”

Haechan’s eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back as Mark’s thrusts became even more forceful. “Mark—fuck—” he gasped, his voice breaking as the pleasure built again, more intense this time, more overwhelming.

Mark’s lips found Haechan’s neck, biting down hard enough to leave another mark. Haechan cried out, his hands gripping Mark’s shoulders as he tried to hold on. The pain mingled with the pleasure, sending shivers through his body. “You wanted this,” Mark said against his skin. “You wanted me to show you how much you matter. Well, here it is. This is how much.”

Haechan couldn’t respond, his mind a haze of pleasure and pain as Mark drove him closer and closer to the edge again. His moans grew louder, more desperate, until they were the only sound in the room. Mark’s thrusts became erratic, harder, rougher, until he finally came with a low groan, filling Haechan as his body shuddered with the force of his release.

For a moment, they stayed like that, their bodies pressed together, their breathing ragged. Then Mark pulled out, leaving Haechan trembling against the wall, his legs barely able to support him. Mark’s hands stayed on his hips, holding him up as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Haechan’s ear.

“I don’t fuck anyone like I’m fucking you now,” Mark whispered, his voice soft but filled with edge. “No one else could ever make me feel like this.”

Mark’s hands tightened around Haechan’s waist as he pulled him away from the wall, his grip unyielding, almost bruising. Haechan barely had time to catch his breath before Mark was steering his back to the bed, his movements rough, impatient. The air between them crackled with tension, Mark’s anger simmering just beneath the surface, his jealousy still raw and unspoken. Haechan stumbled slightly as Mark shoved him down onto the mattress, his back hitting the sheets with a soft thud.

Mark loomed over him, his eyes dark with a mix of possessiveness and frustration. He didn’t give Haechan a chance to speak, his hands already moving to spread Haechan’s legs, exposing him completely. “I want to see you touch yourself,” Mark commanded, his voice low and laced with authority as he watched some of his own cum come out of Haechan. It wasn’t a request—it was a demand, one that sent a shiver down Haechan’s spine.

Haechan’s eyes widened, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he processed Mark’s words. “Mark, I…” His voice faltered, his hands instinctively moving to cover himself. “I’m too sensitive right now. It’s too much. I can’t—”

Mark’s hand shot out, gripping Haechan’s wrist and pinning it to the bed. “Don’t lie to me,” he said, his tone sharp, his eyes boring into Haechan’s. “You’ve been wanting my attention this whole time. So show me. Show me how much you need me.”

Haechan’s breath hitched at the intensity in Mark’s voice, at the way his grip tightened just enough to make his point clear. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, but something in Mark’s gaze compelled him to obey. Slowly, he reached down, his fingers trembling as they wrapped around himself. His cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he couldn’t look away from Mark’s piercing stare.

“That’s it,” Mark murmured, his voice rough, his eyes locked on Haechan’s hand. “Show me.”

Haechan’s fingers moved tentatively at first, his touch feather-light, but the sensation was enough to make him shudder. He bit his lip, trying to stifle the soft moan that escaped his throat. Mark’s presence loomed over him, his dominance seeping into every fiber of Haechan’s being, and it wasn’t long before his movements grew more deliberate, more desperate.

“Is this it?” Mark asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though there was a hint of something softer beneath the surface. “This is how you touch yourself when you’re thinking about me? When you’re imagining it’s my hand on you?”

Haechan’s breath caught in his throat at Mark’s words, his cheeks flushing even darker. He didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, his mind too clouded with pleasure and shame to form coherent thoughts. His fingers moved faster, his body responding to Mark’s words as much as it did to his touch.

Mark leaned closer, his breath hot against Haechan’s ear. “Haechan, no one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to touch you like this. Only me.”

Haechan’s head fell back against the pillow, a soft whimper escaping his lips as he teetered on the edge. His chest heaved, his entire body trembling as his release built, overwhelming and all-consuming. Mark’s words echoed in his mind, fueling his desire, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

When it finally came, it hit Haechan like a wave, crashing over him with such force that he cried out, his back arching off the bed. His vision blurred, his body convulsing as he came undone, his hand still moving even as he struggled to catch his breath.

Mark watched with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something almost tender. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move, his eyes tracing the outline of Haechan’s body as it slowly stilled. When Haechan finally opened his eyes, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, Mark reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Mark murmured, his voice softer now, the anger in it almost gone. 

Haechan blinked up at him, his heart pounding for a different reason now. There was something in Mark’s tone, in the way he looked at him, that made Haechan’s chest ache. He reached up, his fingers brushing against Mark’s cheek. His best friend had just fucked him. Left him moaning his name. 

Mark’s expression softened, but only for a moment. Then his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Is that why you’ve been hanging around Sungchan?” he asked, his tone sharp again, though there was a hint of something else beneath it—something vulnerable. “To make me jealous? To make me do this?”

Haechan’s eyes widened, his hand falling away from Mark’s face. “What? No! That’s not—” He shook his head, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I’m not—I wasn’t trying to make you jealous, Mark. I swear. Sungchan’s just… a friend.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “A friend? Really? Because it sure as hell looked like you were flirting with him.”

“I wasn’t!” Haechan protested, his voice rising slightly. He sat up, wincing as the movement sent a jolt of soreness through his body. “I wasn’t flirting with him, Mark. I was just… trying to get your attention. That’s all.” He admitted. 

Mark stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to Haechan’s surprise, he let out a soft chuckle, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You’re such an idiot,” he said, shaking his head. “All you had to do was tell me.”

Haechan blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in Mark’s demeanour. “Tell you what?”

“That you wanted me,” Mark said simply, his voice softer now, his eyes meeting Haechan’s. “You didn’t need to hang around Sungchan to get my attention. You’ve always had it.”

Haechan’s chest tightened at Mark’s words, his heart swelling with a mix of relief and something else—something warm and undeniable. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, Mark leaned in, his lips brushing against Haechan’s in a soft, almost tentative kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Mark murmured against his lips. “For being such an asshole.”

Haechan’s eyes fluttered shut, his hand finding its way back to Mark’s cheek. “It’s fine,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly with a laugh.

Mark pulled back slightly, his eyes searching Haechan’s face. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of everything that had happened between them hanging in the air. Then Mark let out another soft chuckle, shaking his head. “This is so messed up.”

Haechan couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and breathless. “Yeah. It is. But… I think I’m okay with it.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re okay with me being possessive and jealous?”

Haechan’s cheeks flushed, but he nodded. “Yeah. I mean… it’s kind of hot.”

Mark laughed, the sound deep and warm, and it sent a shiver down Haechan’s spine. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he said, his voice laced with affection. “But… I’m glad you don’t regret it.”

Haechan’s heart skipped a beat, his chest swelling with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Yeah.”

Mark leaned in again, his lips capturing Haechan’s in a kiss that was softer, more tender than any they had shared before. And for the first time, Haechan felt like everything between them was finally, truly right. Despite whatever argument had led to this.

Mark sighed as he collapsed onto the bed beside Haechan, his arm instinctively draping over his waist. Their bodies were still warm from everything that had just happened, the air in the room thick with something neither of them could quite name—something deeper than just tension or jealousy. It felt like a shift, like something had settled into place between them, something that had been there all along but had only just now been acknowledged.

Haechan, still catching his breath, turned his head to look at Mark. His fingers absentmindedly traced small patterns on Mark’s bare shoulder, his touch light, almost hesitant. He didn’t know what to say, if he even needed to say anything. Everything felt different now—new, yet familiar at the same time.

Mark was the first to break the silence, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful. “So… does this mean you’re done trying to get my attention?”

Haechan huffed out a tired laugh, rolling his eyes. “That was never really my intention, idiot.”

Mark smirked, shifting slightly so he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at Haechan. “Sure. You just happened to get all touchy with Sungchan right when I started acting like an asshole.”

Haechan pouted, but it was half-hearted. “I already told you. I wasn’t trying to make you jealous.”

Mark hummed, clearly unconvinced. His fingers brushed lightly against the faint red marks he had left on Haechan’s neck, his smirk deepening when Haechan shivered under his touch. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. If you want my attention, you’ve got it.” His voice dropped slightly, more serious now.

Haechan’s heart did something weird in his chest at that, and he hated how easily Mark’s words affected him. He swallowed, suddenly feeling a little too exposed, so he did what he always did, he deflected.

“So… what now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you just gonna be all over me in front of everyone now? Should I expect you to start holding my hand in public?”

Mark scoffed, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe.” He tilted his head, pretending to think about it. “Or maybe I’ll just make sure everyone knows you’re mine in other ways.”

Haechan rolled onto his side, facing Mark fully now. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

Mark leaned in, his lips brushing against Haechan’s ear as he murmured, “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

A shiver ran down Haechan’s spine, but he refused to let Mark win this one. He scoffed, shoving Mark’s shoulder playfully. “You’re so annoying.”

Mark only grinned, unbothered. “And yet, here you are. In my bed.”

Haechan groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my God, I regret everything.”

Mark laughed, prying Haechan’s hands away from his face. “No, you don’t.” His voice softened slightly as he looked at Haechan, something unreadable in his eyes. “You don’t regret this… right?”

Haechan met his gaze, and for once, he didn’t try to joke his way out of it. He held Mark’s stare, letting the weight of everything settle between them before shaking his head. “No,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t regret it.”

Mark exhaled, his expression easing into something softer. “Good.” He brushed a strand of hair out of Haechan’s face before pressing one last, lingering kiss to his forehead. “Because neither do I.”

Haechan couldn’t believe that Mark confronting him would lead to them indulging in such dirty activities but he wasn’t complaining and it all ended nicely. His crush just fucked him, his best friend… oh my god.

—

The next morning, Haechan groggily rolled out of bed, still feeling the lingering warmth of Mark from having been beside him. His body ached in places he wasn’t going to acknowledge, and he swore under his breath when he caught sight of the faint marks on his neck in the mirror. Mark really didn’t hold back.

“You ready?” Mark asked from the door, already dressed, looking far too casual for someone who had thoroughly ruined Haechan’s life in the span of a night.

Haechan shot him a glare, rubbing his neck. “No thanks to you.”

Mark only grinned, looking way too pleased with himself. “C’mon, everyone’s waiting.”

Dragging himself out of the dorm, Haechan followed Mark to meet the others in the kitchen. The moment they walked in, all conversation at the table stopped. Six pairs of eyes locked onto them, some wide, some amused, and some just plain judgmental.

Yuta was the first to break the silence. He took a slow sip of his drink, eyes flickering between them before smirking. “Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show up.”

Johnny leaned back in his seat, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Man, I thought I was gonna have to move out.”

Jaehyun coughed into his hand, his lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh. Doyoung, on the other hand, looked personally offended, staring at Haechan like he had committed a crime.

“You’re kidding me,” Doyoung deadpanned. “You guys—” He gestured vaguely at them, looking exasperated. “We all heard you.”

Haechan, who had been mid-step toward his seat, froze.

Jungwoo leaned forward, eyes sparkling with pure amusement. “I mean, we all knew something was going on, but wow.” He gave a slow clap. “Congratulations, I guess?”

Haechan’s entire body flushed as he turned to Mark with an are-you-serious-right-now look. This was entirely his fault for making him make loud noises.

Mark, the absolute traitor, just shrugged, completely unfazed. “Not my fault,” he said simply, grabbing a menu like nothing was happening.

“Not your fault?” Haechan hissed under his breath, kicking Mark’s shin under the table.

Mark barely reacted, just smirked at him. “You’re the one who got loud.”

Haechan’s jaw dropped. “Are you insane?!”

“Little bit,” Mark admitted, looking far too pleased with himself as he showed a small amount with his fingers in the air.

Meanwhile, Taeyong had his head in his hands, looking like he was reevaluating his life choices. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Doyoung sighed, massaging his temples. “Please, for the sake of everyone’s sanity, never let that happen again.”

Haechan groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I hate all of you.”

Yuta patted his shoulder, grinning. “Nah, you love us. Just maybe not as much as you love Mark.”

Mark choked on his drink, and for once, Haechan felt slightly better.

Haechan groaned, running a hand down his face before finally muttering, “Okay, okay. I’m sorry, alright?” He peeked between his fingers, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. “Didn’t think I was that loud…”

Jaehyun, ever the menace, leaned back in his chair with an easy grin. “Oh, you were.”

Yuta smirked, resting his chin on his hand as he added, “Not gonna lie, you sounded kinda good.”

Haechan froze. His eyes went wide, his stomach flipping in absolute horror. “What the hell—”

Mark, who had been mostly amused up until that moment, suddenly turned his head toward Jaehyun and Yuta with a sharp look. His smirk was gone, replaced with something much darker. His jaw clenched, and his fingers tapped against the table in a way that made it very, very clear he was holding himself back.

Yuta caught the look first, his smirk widening like he wanted to push Mark further. “Relax, Mark. Just saying what everyone’s thinking.”

Jaehyun chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t mean to offend.”

Mark didn’t say anything, but the way his eyes narrowed was enough. Haechan felt the shift in the air immediately.

And suddenly, suddenly, he didn’t feel so jealous of Yuta anymore.

In fact, maybe everyone else should be worried now.

Haechan glanced at Mark, feeling his face heat up for an entirely different reason. He didn’t think he had ever seen Mark look so… dark before. And maybe he liked it. Just a little bit.