oneshots

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ "you look gorgeous, son."

"looking like a corporate slave overworked to the brink of death surely would be a gorgeous sight for corporate men like you, father."

"well, you are our son. you are gorgeous even if you are old and cranky and grumpy and a bit of a menace. go sleep. your mother and I'll take care of them for you."

the first couple of weeks were hell.

yet — as mark settled into his bed, bone tired and sensitive — he couldn't be less happier.

though not happy about the smell of bitterness and fleshy bits clinging to him. and he refused to wipe himself again for the nth time with antiseptic napkin and smell like hospital ward.

—✧⁠✧—

"are you not going to tell the robber you are keeping his precious jewels?"

"he turned twenty like months ago. a little runt."

"almost a year."

"no. it's been eight months."

"......"

"I keep.....no. why am I explaining myself? do your job and keep them entertained while I sleep, mother."

—✧⁠✧—

"you are not going?"

"no."

"you should actually talk....."

"tell him what?"

both of his parents knows Mark's obsession with the lee's child. they don't the reason why. they just assumed jeno might be one of his lovers.

and it was indeed disrespectful of mark to to chase after a face. just the face.

—✧⁠✧—

(but you know. don't you?)

(and when he rejects me?)

(that will your fate.)

(don't want that!)

—✧⁠✧—

"son, I think, you ed up?" his father whispered.

"what now?" mark mouthed back, gesturing at the bed where two tiny things were asleep.

a small stir. and mark glared at his father.

/I just put them to sleep. don't you dare this up./

"he's ing up the deals." his father came close, patting him on the head and uttered quietly.

"he isn't stupid—"

"and you are not wiser despite the age you claim to be."

"handle it."

"I will try."

—✧⁠✧—

"you gotta be ting me?" mark wasn't the man of elegance and sophistication he once used to be.

"is he ing stupid?"

"for you? yeah."

"mom."

"I told you."

"—"

—✧⁠✧—

it was almost time jeno's twenty second birthday.

[to: petty b̶a̶b̶y̶d̶a̶d̶d̶y̶]
— tell your guards I'm coming over.

—✧⁠✧—

"did you do coke when you turned twenty one?"

mark threw the door open to jeno's office, closing it behind him made sure he locked it up.

"are you stupid?"

he was still sensitive. physically but emotionally as well. he could only hope he wouldn't utter something foolish and get in a situation he had been trying to avoid from the moment he was aware of lee jeno's existence.

(and how foolish you are.)

(shut up!)

mark looked around, relieved that instead of glass walls it was solid concrete that was departing jeno's office from the rest on the floor. though the door was made of glass, it had blinds pulled down.

making sure no one would witness him meltdown — if he had any and cried like a pathetic child: yes, he came prepared to let the tear ducts work and get away after begging on his knees if he had to, pride be damned.

he fought with Yohan once. a big fight. that ended horribly.

he wasn't about to repeat his mistake.

"I will talk. I'm here to talk. do tell me, oh! great prime, what vision you conjured in your day dreams that compelled you to take such drastic measures?"

it wasn't that jeno's firm was the only one. there were numerous available. yet his past self had been so foolish to sign exclusive rights to the lees' for one of his most popular works. getting them back became difficult.

it wasn't about the money either. mark could careless about the wealth. he had plenty to last him for life times.

it was that — Yohan wasn't petty.

but jeno was.

and mark did not like the feel of /his/ .......

"—"

he popped himself stop jeno's desk, facing them, both of his feet resting on the armrest of jeno's chair.

(if jeno's expensive work laptop broke and data loss, that was on lee jeno. not mark.)

@lee mark ⋆ "he hasn’t even sent a message. why is he ignoring me?” jeno grumbled, attacking the tv remote with gusto as if it were the root of all betrayal.

"he's just poofed into thin air. not one lousy text. vanished. gone!"

the butler, having seen jeno evolve from a tiny terror into the grandmaster of overreaction he now was, observed the unfolding drama with the serenity of a monk. buffing a silver teapot to such a gleam it could blind, he glanced up with a smirk.

"well let's see... he's either suffering from sudden onset amnesia or he's barricaded himself away, furiously typing out what he believes will be the next literary masterpiece about your dalliance. time will tell."

jeno huffed, a reluctant smile breaking through his annoyance.

"seriously, though. do you think... did it mean nothing?” he trailed off, his bravado crumbling to reveal a glimpse of his raw, unguarded heart.

"it doesn’t make any sense,” he collapsed onto the couch as if trying to merge with it.

"and how was our dear mark during this rendezvous? did he look like he was enjoying the... festivities?" the butler inquired, the twinkle in his eye unmistakable.

“perhaps your... ahem, performance didn't quite hit the mark...? sorry, i couldn't resist the pun."

jeno's cheeks flamed to a shade of red that would shame a ripe tomato, a storm of mortification and defiance brewing within.

"i held my own, thank you very much.”

"oh, i'm sure you did, sir. a veritable casanova."

jeno stood up, sulking.

"i despise you. you're cut off from the wine stash." he declared, turning on his heel.

yet, the wine found its way to the butler, as always.


—✧⁠✧—


then, like a bolt from the blue—

[ from: poltergeist ]
— x hotel. room no xxx.
— i will only wait for an hour.

that was how a silent pact managed to blossom.

a flower blooming in the desert, unexpected yet desperately yearned for.


—✧⁠✧—


eighteen became their second act. jeno was still shedding the last vestiges of boyhood, stepping into the broader shoulders and taller frame that adolescence granted him. this year, the passion between them was underscored by a deeper familiarity, a sense of returning to a secret garden they'd once stumbled upon.

nineteen found jeno more settled into his growing frame – his confidence budding rather than fully bloomed. their encounters evolved, shedding the initial hesitance for a bolder, more deliberate exploration. the passion was there, rougher than before – a reflection of his growing familiarity and the intensity of his desires. mark bore the traces of their night together, yet for jeno, it somehow remained incomplete.

by twenty, jeno was navigating the complexities of early adulthood. his confidence, though not as rock-solid as it might seem, had indeed solidified from his younger years. that year – not just passionate but bordering on ferocity – left more than just physical reminders; he recognised his fixation on mark and grappled with the intrigue that mark sparked within him.

an intrigue that was as maddening as it was magnetic.

jeno was forced to confront the reality of his feelings, questioning not just what he desired, but why it felt perpetually insufficient.

each of those years, they adhered to their unspoken rule: one night a year, no more, no less. the morning always brought the same silence, a return to their separate lives as if nothing had changed.

yet, in the quiet that followed, jeno was visited by dreams of mark, dreams of a love that transcended limits and logic. each of the dawns that followed, his dreams continued to haunt him.

just as their annual encounters had evolved into an anticipated event for him, came twenty one…..

nothing.

no message, no sign, no trace of mark. nothing. just an echoing silence.

jeno waited.

maybe mark was sick, maybe he was caught up in something.

/or maybe had simply forgotten about jeno./

the wait turned into a torturous game.

(does he spare a thought for me? at all?)

(why would he bother? it’s not like he’s shown he gives a damn. ever.)

jeno's attempts to reach out were measured, veiled in casual gestures but propelled by a frantic desperation. via his assistant, he dispatched fruit baskets to the publishing house – a façade of congratulatory gesture for their latest successful publication, thinly masking his true intent: any scrap of mark, any morsel of his existence.

but, predictably, nothing.

the gratitude from the elder lee’s was polite, ecstatic, yet it carried no hint of mark, no whisper of his well-being.

in a move of less subtlety, jeno enlisted his mother's aid, asking her to deliver some homemade baked goods to the lee’s doorsteps under the pretext of a friendly visit. a manoeuvre so blatantly desperate it crossed into farce.

yet, this too yielded zilch. no news, no casual mention of mark.

no acknowledgment from the one person jeno sought. nada.

the silence only stretched on; it ballooned into a mocking monster, stretching, distorting, engulfing.

(wasn't i clear enough that i wanted to hear from him?)

(does he get a kick out of this? watching me dangle on a ing string?)

(what's so hard about sending a simple, measly message?)

(who made him king, deciding when to grace me with his presence?)

(what gives him the right to just vanish?)

( a̶l̶l̶ t̶h̶e̶ r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶, a̶c̶t̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶. )

( ….. )

mark – absent in presence but intrusive upon his thoughts, twisting them into a macabre carnival, mocking every hopeful flicker with a sinister glee.

(who, pray tell, gave you the right to hope?)

( ….. )

(what in the world is wrong with me?)


—✧⁠✧—


days turned into weeks, and weeks into months.

mark's absence was a relentless torment, a question that haunted his every waking moment, poisoned every decision. the silence of the dawn was a cacophony; nights, a descent into madness.

in meetings, his focus was miles away.

"do we have a consensus?"

jeno remained silent, his mind a maelstrom. the night before had been restless, plagued by vivid flashbacks – his voice, the phantom warmth of his skin, and the scent of stupid ing ripe plum, refusing to grant him peace.

“mr. lee?”

by this time, jeno had ascended to the role of directing manager at the DRM firm, overseeing the endorsement of projects and deals to broaden the company's horizons. given his esteemed status as a prime, he was strategically positioned to propel the firm's success and influence to new heights.

“….”

“jeno...?”

“….”

/if mark was going to ignore him, so be it./

with a suddenness that jarred the room into attention, jeno unveiled a grin teetering on the brink of madness, his posture unsettlingly serene as chaos brewed beneath the surface.

"scrap it. /every last bit./"

the room fell into a hushed silence, the sudden shift in direction catching his team and the business partner off guard.

"but we were led to believe—"

“we will cease all dealings with entities associated with the publishing house. effective immediately.”

"a- and why, may i ask?"

"this decision may shock," his voice rang out, cloaked in a veneer of composure and thoughtfulness yet laced with an undercurrent of spite, "considering our past triumphs."

it was a declaration of war, born from the depths of pettiness.

"the landscape of our industry demands adaptability. our history with the publishing house, while notable, diverges from our strategic path forward. it’s crucial we explore partnerships that mirror our ambitions."

jeno paused, letting the gravity of his words hang in the air.

"this wasn't an easy choice."

/but indeed, it was whimsical./

"it's a deliberate move—"

/a knee-jerk reaction./

"—to reinforce our market position and safeguard our stakeholders' interests. our ongoing association with the publishing house poses a conflict, threatening the integrity of both entities."

the room was frozen, caught in the eye of jeno's storm.

"this tough but necessary pivot is in pursuit of a grander scheme: ensuring our firm's legacy and competitive edge. your understanding is appreciated. the marketplace is ruthless."

/if mark preferred the shadows, let them envelop him./

/if mark fancied playing the phantom, fine. jeno would haunt him back tenfold./

/if mark intended to erase himself from jeno’s life, let the games begin./

inspire jeno to not only flirt with disruption – let him obliterate the equilibrium, /piece by piece./

"i wish you the best of luck securing another DRM firm that aligns with your future endeavours."

with that, jeno rose, leaving behind a wake of bewildered silence.

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ [ cw : (?) ]


/mark./

the haze intensified. the heat was discomfortable.

and he looked up at jeno like a helpless creature.

Yohan had spoiled him too much. taking clothes off him like he unwrapping a present with careful touches. and sometimes tore him open.

"jeno—"

mark whispered the name in the confines of his room countless time.

frustration. rage. regrets. longing. the name would be coming off his lips like chanting prayers at an altar.

and in his most shameless moments too.

his hands found jeno's face, cardled, connected the faded memories to the present, uttering the name again and again and each utterance more desperate and urgent.

take me. have me. break me. ruin me. please.

—

mark arrived home three in the morning.

"you got robbed?"

"father—"

"fine. you're no longer a ."

"we still giving a damn about those things?"

"yeah. let me send you my most prized wine."

"that's mine, you know. technically."

"sush!"

—

mark eyed his reflection in the mirror of his bathroom.

Yohan was not a freak.

jeno, on the other hand —

"—" mark hissed as he touched the bruises on him.

well, he was seventeen.

—✧⁠✧—

"do you want to get robbed?"

"is this what we calling it?"

"well, would you like to admit—"

"isn't he dating some omega—"

"you look like you had a bottle of vinegar raw."

"shut up."

"......"

"I'll be staying out. I'll be back by morning. tell, mom."

"getting robbed?"

"yeah."

—✧⁠✧—

he should not. he really should not. like he really, really, really, really should not.

—✧⁠✧—

[to: robber]
x hotel. room no xxx.
I will only wait for an hour.

(sent)✓

—✧⁠✧—

mark had humiliated himself enough. he would survive if he was turned down.

he wasn't.

—✧⁠✧—

mark couldn't tell who was the twisted one between them.

—✧⁠✧—

[to: robber]
apartment xxx. 8th floor. x area.
2hrs.

—✧⁠✧—

mark could not explain what he was doing. he was afraid. yet—

when jeno's mouth was on him, kissing him breathless, slammed him against the apartment door the moment he entered the room, mark couldn't think what was wrong with him.

definitely him.

jeno was an innocent nineteen year old.

a nineteen with too much strength but mark welcomed the rough handling. it felt right

break me.

—✧⁠✧—

[to: robber]
my place.

—✧⁠✧—

mark did not know if he should be happy or feel guilty.

yet again all his thoughts faded when jeno shoved his face into the pillow with a little care about his breathing.

sweet suffocation. mark barely remembered the night.

except that he was ruined thoroughly.

the boy had branded him — not the mating bond — but the bruises covering him looked worse than previous ones.

—✧⁠✧—

"were you fighting the evil forces or what?"

"sort of."

"what you sending him for birthday?"

"gave mys—"

"oh,"

"I'm going to sleep. have fun attending the party."

—✧⁠✧—

"well,"

"well,"

"oh come on. stop being so mysterious."

"I'm going to our villa in the northern woods. tell people I caught some contagious sickness. or whatever."

"and the robber?"

"actually tell everyone I'm dying so trying new therapy or . nobody cares. I don't care. who knows I might not return to this city."

[post deleted by owner]

@lee mark ⋆ [ tw / cw : (?) ]



in the chamber of his heart, each beat was a thunderous declaration, echoing against his ribs as mark nestled closer – his cheek and lips a whisper against the storm within that threatened to break free from its bony cage.

“mark—”

against the sweet fragrance, jeno was powerless to resist; in his youthful temerity where self-control was a rare commodity, easily depleted.

the choices before him were both daunting and illuminating.

/then do it./

commitment to any course felt irrevocable; there was no going back. the future was a question mark, but for now—

/or forget./

for now… jeno yielded to the craving for closeness, for the seductress. he wanted a taste of it, wanted to relish mark and everything he had to offer.

and yield he did. with a greed, with a thirst that commandeered his most primal urges.

it was in the way his lips searched for mark’s in a kiss that kindled an all-consuming blaze. it was in the assertive press of his hands – that spoke of need, not gentleness – that pushed and pushed mark until he was pressed down into his bed. it was in the way their bodies came together, their arousals grinding so deliciously jeno had moaned into mark’s mouth. it was in the hasty exploration of mark’s shirt buttons, his fingers revealing the softness of the skin beneath. it was in the tender meeting of their bare chests – a communion of heat and pulsating life. and it was in jeno’s reverence as he tasted the essence of mark, tongue seeking and the very sweetness that emanated from every pore, savoured as the rarest nectar. sweet. delectable. /more./

his body spoke the words his voice had yet to find, confessing his need, his desire, in every touch, every breath.

every doubt, every question about what was appropriate or possible receded into the shadows, left to be pondered in the aftermath... with either regret or rejoicing.

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ [cw: idiots negotiating seggs. I'm sorry pmsl]


"then do it."

there was a faraway look in his eyes.

Yohan.

mark in another breath — the sweetness drowned him further into the haze.

he couldn't remember Yohan's scent as vividly as he would like to. and maybe that was why he was scrambling for a taste of the forgotten sweetness.

Yohan was sweet.

he was a traitor. but so, so, so, so, sweet to him. his always held him with so much love.

mark unconsciously wrapped his hands around the boy before him, burying his nose against the bare shoulder.

warm. soft.

mark wasn't touch starved. his parents in this life adored him.

yet—

mark breathed in another lungful, holding onto jeno as if he was his sole life line.

and it was ridiculous how the moment he pressed himself into jeno, he felt at ease.

he felt it with his cheek; the soft hardness of muscles building up. he was shameless, let his lips taste the the dampness gathering at the pores. sweet and salt blended in perfect proportion.

he couldn't induce an alpha to a rut.

(and how twisted you are to wish so.)

(but it would solve the problem.)

"or forget. and never—"

@lee mark ⋆ each ‘sorry’ being a heavier weight than the last, mark's attempt to dodge his gaze, his backward steps – jeno felt an unexpected knot form in his stomach. he made a confused noise in the back of his throat. it all sparked a reaction in him that was part frustration, part confusion, part something else he couldn't quite name.

(if not now, then when?)

“just hold on a second," he found himself insisting, a bit more forcefully.

the urge to let mark just walk away wrestled with a stronger desire to not let this end in a cloud of regrets; his feet moved on their own accord to close the distance that was created.

/the desire is there, undeniable./

(irresistible to you, isn't he?)

was he making mark uncomfortable? were his words misplaced, or was his silence even more so?

reaching out, his hand found mark's waist, drawing him back into a proximity that felt right.

"can you not… can we not do this— this running away thing— right now?" jeno's voice softened, a tender plea for a pause, for a chance to breathe and to think.

he needed to think.

yet, as his gaze locked with mark's, a rush of emotion clogged his throat. those were the eyes that offered him an ocean of love in the safety of his dreams, the same eyes that now held him captive in reality.

he couldn’t think.

damn it.

“i—"

(desire him. crave him.)

(you've wanted him. you've always known. always.)

jeno had his moments of naivety, but obliviousness was not one of them; the room was heavy with the scent of arousal.

"you’re just…”

a hard swallow tried to dislodge the tightness in his throat; his teeth ached, his touch on mark's skin quivering with the force of unsaid words.

mark smelled so sweet, so rich and enticing, so intoxicating and so—

“you’ll get mauled out there.”

.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: physical violence, ferocity endemic, suicidal ideation
NOTES: this is a flashback, not a current event

"Say it again."

"Uh-"

Jaemin places his champagne glass on the table and takes a step forward into the other alpha's space. He repeats himself in a low tone that leaves no room for refusing an order.

"Say it. Again."

The other alpha opens his mouth and Jaemin's head is filled with static.

In the next moment he has the alpha by the hair and slams their head onto the table. The table rattles and several glasses are sent crashing to the floor, shattering and pulling everyone's attention to the scene. Jaemin isn't paying attention to them; he isn't thinking about anything, really, as shoves the alpha down again, and a third time.

Someone tries to pull him away and Jaemin snarls at them, leaving the alpha slumped against the table as he turns to attack.

He's vaguely aware of screaming and laughter.

And in between it all the cacophony is punctuated by a loud voice, "Na Jaemin!"

Jaemin swings toward the voice with the intent to hurt; but he finds himself pinned to the floor suddenly, head cracking against the ballroom tiles. He claws against the grout beneath his fingernails, eyes wild and unseeing.

"Get a hold of yourself," the voice growls, and Jaemin snaps his teeth in response.

His father wrenches his arm behind his back and Jaemin can't push himself up. Still he tries, kicking and spitting, slashing at the forearm against his neck.

A guttural scream tears from his throat when sharp teeth dig into the meat of his shoulder, burning like a brand, searing him from the inside out. His heart thuds in his chest and in his ears, and hot sticky blood drips onto the floor as Jaemin gives one last effort to break free, causing the fangs embedded in him to rip and tear and dig even deeper.

In a single moment of shaky clarity Jaemin thinks that this time his father might really be trying to kill him.

(Sometimes he wishes it were true.)

The forced submission is finally enough to put an end to his ferocity.

Jaemin pants against the dirty, cold tiles, head foggy, ears ringing, bruised and defeated.

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ [ cw : bird and bees! implied. gore. ]


unwanted.

even if the mix of overly sweet and tanginess was like an invisible veil drawn around them, revealing the intention behind it, mark thought jeno's retreat was rejection.

and why not?

mark hadn't been good. he hadn't been good for ages. he had been called rude and egoist. narcissist too.

he was particularly not good to jeno.

hadn't been good to yohan when he slashed the alpha's throat with the dagger — a gift from yohan — and didn't even apologised properly.

"sorry—" mark avoided jeno's eyes.

"I'm sorry."

sorry for entering your room.

"sorry."

sorry to think I've the right.

"sorry."

should not have come.

he had taken steps back, on autopilot, praying he would find the door and end his misery.

he could wait in another room.

@lee mark ⋆ [ tw: birds and bees (?) ]


/break..... me./

thump.

“what?” jeno's voice caught, grip faltering.

(mark didn’t mean that. no—)

"do you even know what you're asking...?"

because jeno was at a loss, the words echoing in a void of understanding within him.

(break him.)

yet, the searing heat that coiled in his stomach and clawed at his chest seemed to understand the gravity of the request far better.

thump. thump. thump…

(you want to.)

(no…)

(he’s asking for you. he whispers your name.)

( ….. )

(break him. shatter him. tear him down. make him yours. break—)

pain pulsed through his jaw from clenching his teeth so tightly.

letting go of mark's hand, his hands balled into fists, nails biting into his flesh in a desperate attempt to anchor himself in reality. he retreated a step, creating distance as he sought answers in mark's expression — his gaze riddled with confusion and a dawning realisation, the browns of his irises flickering across mark's features before pausing, inevitably, on his lips. those pink ing lips.

(he's yours to break, jeno.)

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ [ tw : . pmsl ]


/shut up!/

and mark did. but that was only physically. his mind was replying memories after memories. old memories mark tried so hard to forget but they clung to him like curses. or a blessing. maybe both.

he was loved. he was loved too deeply, unmatched.

he recalled the loving gazes.

the same darkness seizing him. with the same love. but fierce. rage simmering.

and he was handsome.

"." an involuntary response.

he recalled the way being held. gentle. the gentlest. yohan held him as if handling a glass porcelain.

but also—

mark's stomach twisted, closing his thighs together.

(break me.)

(you don't want that, darling.)

(you know what I meant.)

God—

"break..... me."

@lee mark ⋆ mark's voice, reduced to a mere whimper, was a stark contrast to the image of defiance he had always presented. there he was, knees to the ground, bent in a posture of surrender – it was alien to the image jeno had of him, far removed from the strength he had come to associate with mark.

the sight wasn't the triumph jeno had imagined in his moments of frustration with the older boy.

pipsqueak.

even the word lost its usual bite; its edge dulled.

the insult only deepened his concern. the plea for violence left him speechless with mark's raw call for an end echoing in his mind like a broken cassette.

should’ve… let him die?

thump….

should’ve let mark die?

“shut up…” it was unthinkable.

now standing in front of him, he stared down at mark, eyes sharpening to dangerous slits.

thump. thump. thump. thump….

the scent was almost taunting in its richness, unfurled around him like vines of temptation. it was as if a field of plums, ripe and swollen with the promise of sweetness, had burst into blossoms right there in the room.

“shut up!” a growl that erupted was as instinctive as breathing, teeth unconsciously bared in a snarl.

a puzzle too complex for his young heart to decipher yet refusing to tolerate any form of resistance.

“up— ing get up.”

he forced mark to stand, his grip firm around mark's forearm, pulling him with a strength that he himself couldn't fully comprehend. their proximity suddenly narrowed to mere inches, chests colliding.

mark smelled so intoxicatingly honeyed it seemed to mock the gravity of their situation. jeno hadn't realised the pheromones he was emanating from his very pores in response, nor the roughness in his voice.

“i didn't almost die in that water and broke a rib just to hear you talk like this years later. snap out of it, you head!" he hissed.

his grip was unrelenting, perhaps too much so – the pressure of his fingers possibly leaving marks that would later bloom into purples and blues.

“what are you trying? why are you here?” a gruff demand for answers. “what are you after? what do you—”

/what do you want from me?/

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ [ cw : dubcon. implied. mature.]


ⁿᵒᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ, ⁿᵒᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ ᶠᵉᵉˡˢ ᑫᵘᶦᵗᵉ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ.



mark closed his eyes.

the shame didn't disappear. nor the heat unfurling inside.

it burned.

it burned. he wanted to rip himself open, pull out those wretched organs out. stubborn. mark was stubborn. he couldn't let a pipsqueak hold so much power over him. damn it!

/come out!/

mark held in. mouth washed with the tanginess of his own blood.

leave. leave. leave. leave. leave. leave…..

(obey.)

(no.)

(obey.)

(I—)

/mark. now/

“I….” his voice came out in a whimper.

bewildered and terrified, wrapped in guilt and shame, all for jeno to see, mark was on the floor, on his knees.

“ you pipsqueak—” its the little amount of self control left in him.

(the confidence that this man — this soul — will never ever harm him: yohan's loving gaze until the beautiful blacks became dull voids.)

yohan.

mark looked up.

jeno.

yohan.

jeno.

(‘will you have me.’)

yohan.

(‘are you okay?’)

jeno.

(‘this life. this heart. this body. this soul. yours. and yours alone. forever.’)

yohan.

('mark.')

stupid jeno lee jumping into water to save him. stupid jeno lee always trying to chase after mark. stupid jeno lee and his stupid gifts sent to mark though mark never celebrated his birthdays. stupid jeno lee and his stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, eyes.

(love him. love him so much. love him so much. want him.)

pathetic.

God, ing kill me.

his mouth trembled. swallowed the blood. canines visible.

“jeno—” pleading, “kill me.”

mark couldn't decide which was worse — getting wet for a mere seventeen year old runt or asking the seventeen year old to commit homicide.

“you should have let me die that day.”

@lee mark ⋆ standing shirtless, in the midst of changing, jeno reached to undo his belt, his mind partially on ensuring his outfit would match.

initially faint, it soon saturated the room: a whiskey's smoky depth and the crisp tang of salt—

/and the heady sweetness of ripe plums. so overwhelming and intoxicating./

d̶e̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶f̶u̶l̶.

the smell enveloped jeno in a flood of recognition that made him swallow hard, his throat tightening. it wove around him, coaxing forth thoughts and feelings he'd kept neatly tucked away. his breaths grew deeper, a subconscious effort to immerse himself in the essence. tension seized his jaw as his mind raced, questions tumbling over each other.

why here? why now?

in his own room out of all places – once a refuge, now felt invaded.

“how… how long have you been here?” the words slipped out into the thickened silence.

jeno remained stationary, his emotions forming an invisible barrier that kept him from seeking out the source.

“come out,” he began softly at first, but the command was clear.

then, his tone hardened and left no room for negotiation, brooking no defiance.

“mark, /now./”

[tw: dead rabbit?]

A lone silhouette runs amongst the trees in the late hours of the night; the trees are his bones and the rivers his veins. This forest is his home, his life, his world. All he had ever known and all he had ever wanted to know. Coming to a slow stop outside his den; a secluded hole he had dug himself right underneath the root ball of a fallen tree, he feels the cool winter winds caressing his obsidian coat with sweet gentle kisses welcoming him home and he was at ease.

No sooner than he had stopped, he hears a familiar chittering from within the darkness of his den. Blaze coming out to greet him with excited swishes of his tail, a blur of red and black as he circles Youngkyuns and rubs himself against the wolfs forelegs- a cute little display he does when Youngkyun returns home and when he wants to be fed. The wolf lowers his head to allow the rabbit that he had been carrying between his massive jaws, long dead and bloodied, to drop onto the floor much to the fox kits delight.

Winters were always easier for them. Prey is concentrated in the lowlands, but without a pack, nothing is truly ever easy. As a lone wolf, he had no protection, and alone, it's harder to bring down big prey. But with the cold comes many hares that huddle together in burrows to keep warm, and those are Youngkyun and Blazes favorites, but as the winter slowly turns to spring, that food supply starts to get scarce.

In the spring and summer, things get tougher. Prey animals are fitter- harder to catch, and that makes hunting alone a dangerous task. Without a pack, prey can turn the tables. There's nothing more fierce than a female elk protecting her calf, after all, and a herd of elk can do serious damage when there is only one wolf to fend off... But those were worries for another day.

over his chops before he was making a round about their den and the immediate area surrounding. Scent marking a few trees before he was making his way back over to where Blaze was enjoying his rabbit; picking up the smaller canine between his impossibly dangerous, but in this moment, infinitely gentle teeth by the scruff of his furry neck to haul him into the safety of their den for the night. Blaze, to his own credit, held steadfastly onto the rabbit that Youngkyun had caught for him even as he dangled from the wolfs mouth.

Tonight they were fed, so tonight they would sleep well.

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ [ cw: 17-19 idiots having bees and birds. implied. not fully explicit ]


........—

how did it come to this?

mark kept trying to keep his breathing as quiet as possible. but — damn. damn. damn. damn. damn…..

[thump!thump!thump!thump!thump!thump!thump!…….]

he felt exposed. . fear crawling its way up.

he let his mouth fall open, willing his body to heed his command. slow down. calm down. breathe. gently.

don't make a sound.

but nothing went his way when it mattered most. certainly not his treacherous heart, pumping mouth blood into his system as if the reaper would snap it dead if it slowed down even for a second.

it got louder. his ear drums ringing.

the boy — no longer a boy of innocence because how come a child of seventeen was this much ripped in the right places — was talking off his clothes.

one by one.

(he knows. he knows. he knows. he knows…)

yet the the fear and humiliation were overwhelmed by the growing heat coursing underneath skin.

being hidden in the closet did not help his case.

every breath he took, his essence was pouring into his lungs.

it did not help his case.

the heat flared up. strength leaving his body. dizzying. suffocating.

mark grabbed onto whatever he could find within the closet as if that would save him from his current predicament.

why the he was even here?

(you wanted to see him.)

why the he was in the room?

(you missed him.)

can we —

(you are pathetic.)

mark hadn't realised though he was a beta, he could still be detectable. especially when his body was craving something — someone to be exact.

@lee mark ⋆ [ cw / tw: age gap (?), . ]



two forms, shadows merging in the moonlit dance of dreams. the press of one bare chest against another, their movements slick with sweat, a harmony of skin caressing skin.

a concentrated warmth bloomed in his core, radiating outward, spreading to every part of his body. a tightness enveloped him, matched by an overwhelming sense of fullness that took over his chest.

between the lewd sounds of their connection, a whisper weaves like a thread of silk, delicate yet fervent – a name uttered like a prayer.

“yohan... yohan…”

looking down at him were eyes deep and brown, brimming with a love so pure it had his breath hitching.

“minheng—"

as the grey light of dawn snuck into the room, the vividness of the dream began to fade. jeno blinked awake – his heart racing in his ears like an alarm, his cheeks a vivid shade of red, his clothes seemed to have taken up swimming overnight, sticking to him like a second, sweat-soaked skin.

he looked down.

.

quite the way to kick off his day – no coffee needed with an adrenaline rush like that.

_

his parents decided that his seventeenth birthday should be a spectacle to behold – a grand celebration set within the opulent halls of his family's mansion.

family and friends gathered to honour the milestone, their presence a tribute to the love and regard they held for him – or perhaps the broader respect accorded to his parents because some faces were definitely less known to jeno, likely to be his parents' esteemed colleagues.

jeno, the star of the day, navigated the sea of well-wishers with a grace that belied his years, his face lit by smiles and his arms often wrapped in warm embraces. the evening was punctuated the exchange of fond, well-meaning wishes. friends rallied around him with loud cheers and playful banter; many shook his hand, exchanged high fives and fist bumps, kissed his cheek, presented him with gag gifts alongside more thoughtful presents. relatives, their faces etched with lines of wisdom and love, intermittently drew him into their arms, bestowing upon him their blessings and affections. cheeks were pinched, backs were patted, hair ruffled and laughter filled the spaces between words.

“jeno, my dear, many happy returns!” came the warm greeting from mark's mother.

“it's wonderful to see you surrounded by so much love today. you're looking every bit the young man we all knew you'd grow into.”

"thank you, mrs. lee. your wishes mean a lot to me.”

“mark made it to the party, you know. he was quite excited to come— he arrived with the first guests. got a bit side tracked, i believe. you know how he can be... always wandering off. but i'm certain he's looking forward to seeing you.”

but jeno couldn't help but doubt mark's enthusiasm for their reunion. he was sceptical. still, there was a faint flicker of hope at her words – it planted seeds of curiosity and anticipation that began to sprout.

after all, this was mark.

the same boy who had spurned his attempts at friendship more times than jeno could count.

the mark who had not shied away from mocking him, who had once derisively dubbed him a pipsqueak and hurled insults his way.

yet also the one who had saved jeno.

the same face who, for reasons unknown, haunted his dreams every birthday night without fail.

"i'll… keep an eye out.”

now with a heart slightly adrift on thoughts of mark as he continued to engage with guests, his eyes began to dart around the room.

mark.

...is here?

why bother? he's always kept his distance.

maybe it's just for show, for formalities, to save face in front of families. understandable, really. social expectations, nothing more.

better not read too much into it. don’t get your hopes—

“oh, i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you—” a flustered apology from a guest who had accidentally collided with him.

the accident left a smear of frosting across his outfit, disrupting the perfection of his party attire and warranting immediate attention.

"no, no, it's my fault. i wasn't paying attention. my apologies," jeno responded with a quick, polite smile, “please excuse me.”

stupid mark.

all his fault.

with a nod to those around him, jeno excused himself from the party, making his way through the elegant corridors of the mansion and into his room. once there, he began to shed his attire.

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ cw: age gap


/are you okay?/

mark laughed, maniac, yet the force of it paled compared to the hollowed silence of the woods.

the frustration of a mind centuries old could not be contained within the body of a child and it broke him. his voice.

“I'm okay?” mark croaked, his adam’s apple, more prominent and rudish, bobbing up and down.

it was cold. it was hot. it was uncomfortable.

it was the tears still flowing down his cheeks. his nose getting stuffy, and mouth agape for the breath.

“ you!”

mark spat.

sweet. God.

“you dimwit.”

now that there was no immediate life threatening danger, his instincts were slowly taking over.

sweet.

he wanted to sink into it. into the coolth of the boy's palms, the softness of it that spoke volumes about the care and kindness and innocence of the owner of those hands.

still the same.

still the gentlest touch ever.

don't. don't. don't. don't…….

mark pulled himself away, feeling sick and twisted and awful — that was a child after all. lee jeno was a child. a baby. an innocent baby.

nothing good will come out associating with him.

(he so wanted to hold the boy.)

(!)

“I'm alive. you are alive. can you walk?”

mark stood up, holding his hand out.


—☆—


“mark, the Lees’ have invited us to their son’s birthday party.”

“which one?”

of course mark knew which one. but he wasn't about to give himself away. If possible, he'd like to avoid the boy altogether.

he firmly believed whenever they cross paths only tragedy followed them. wretched fate of theirs.

(and not because mark doubted his own self control.)

“you know, jeno. his. the sweet kid. you would have known if you bothered attending the parties and family gathering.”

“mom—” a warning.

“sorry. but still, you should come. it's time you socialise too.”

—

“what changed your mind?”

“just here to see—” mark clucked, scanning the ground floor from the first floor, indulging in the wine.

his mother had shown a picture of the boy that evening.

“how filthy rich the lees’ are. it's my blessing.”

“it is. have fun son. you can go home whenever you want.” his father patted his back and moved to the ground floor where all the honoured guests gathered for the cake cutting.

just a glimpse.

he will watch him then go.

mark remembered yohan's captivating eyes and the tempting mouth whispering sweet promises.

it was ridiculous. foolish. laughable. mark was the of the joke.

one ing glimpse.

he drowned the rest of his drink and moved to situate himself behind a pillar, hiding away.

insanity and irrationality was finally catching up to him.

he contemplated signing up for therapy. or maybe asylum. probably the latter would suit him.

@lee mark ⋆ [ cw / tw: near death. children. child survives tho dw. vomiting. uh... tread with caution? ]



/stupid wake up!/

coldness touched his lips.

//

"yes, yours," he breathed, each word unfurling like a petal caught in the gentle embrace of the wind, carrying with it the fragrance of newfound beginnings.

"and you, beloved minheng, are entirely mine," he continued. “in every way that matters, in every way that lasts.”

"your life, your heart, they're mine to cherish and protect. and in turn, my heart, my soul's whispers— they are irrevocably tied to you, bound by a pledge as enduring as the stars."

within yohan, a garden took root – as if a thousand tiny butterflies had awakened in his stomach, their painting his world in the hues of euphoria. it was a joy so vast, so all-encompassing, it threatened to eclipse the very air he breathed, filling him with a lightness that defied gravity.

he wanted to embrace the infinite possibilities that lay in the simple word ‘ours.’

“i raise you my promise: to live, to survive, and to return to you, time and again. if i'm to meet my end, let it be in your arms.”

their kiss, a tender union of their spirits, was the seal upon their vows, a silent affirmation of the dreams and hopes that had guided them to this moment.

it was a moment of coming home.

because in minheng’s arms, he had found his home. in minheng’s heart, his soul found peace.

that evening, under the soft luminescence of moonlight filtering through the high windows, their love found expression in the most intimate of languages – with only the timeless walls of the library, keepers of timeless stories that now cradled their own, to bear witness.

//

consciousness eventually seeped back into jeno, but not without being accompanied by a raw, choking sensation. air fought its way into lungs that seemed to have forgotten their purpose, each gasp dragging with it the burn of cold water.

the first deep, ragged breath he took was a battle – a harsh gasp that seemed to tear through his chest and ignite a violent coughing fit. his small body convulsed as it fought to rid itself of the lake that had nearly claimed him as its own. a sharp, persistent pain encircling his ribcage intensified with every cough.

gradually, the coughs morphed into a desperate heaving then subsided into shallow breaths. a wave of nausea hit him hard soon after. the sickening mix of lake water, adrenaline, and fear forced its way out. now on his side, he vomited until the last of the water left his system, his fists clenched tightly on the grass.

weak and trembling, but each breath easier than the last.

lying on the damp grass, the world around him was a series of disjointed perceptions – the damp earth beneath him grounding, the rush of clean air bittersweet, the warmth of the sun a distant caress against his chilled skin, the lingering taste of lake water an acrid taste.

“nnh— hurts…”

attempting to rise, a rush of dizziness and ache overwhelmed him, prompting a pause to gather his scattered breaths. tears blurred the edges of his vision, from pain and confusion.

he managed a weak, "what—?" before a sudden, pressing concern cut through his disorientation, eyes widening.

"mark— mark!" despite the weakness that made his limbs feel like lead, his voice carried a strength born of concern.

in that moment, the sight of mark, equally drenched and looming anxiously over him, brought a flash of clarity.

jeno had done stupid things; one too many to count. that was... definitely not his finest moment to say the least.

"are you alive— are you okay?" the words tumbled out, urgency lacing his innocent query.

pain lanced through him as he forced a sit-up, grimacing with every slight movement. yet, through the haze of discomfort, his eyes intently sought out mark, scanning for any traces of harm.

mark appeared intact… unscathed for the most part. thank god.

his hands were shaky – both from the cold and the surge of emotions – and unsure. yet driven by an instinctive need to connect, jeno extended them out. gently, they came to rest on mark's cheeks, framing his face.

“you're okay… aren't you?"

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ [ tw // kids doing rescue breath. old hag in child's body resuscitating the seemingly child. perhaps broken ribs. vomiting. real uglies ]

no. one. no. two. no. three. no. four. no. five. no. six. no. seve. no. eight. no. ni—……….

mark pinched the boy's nose and breathed into his mouth.

one.

a pause.

two.

bewildered, he checked for the sign of chest moving.

still. cold.

“—”

mark repeated the process, shaking and gasping, tears blurring his view, pathetic sobs breaking out.

he felt scared. scared of his own strength. scared of his inability to do the right thing — his foolishness coasted him a never ending cycle of regret and repentance.

he was scared. muffled sobs falling into the dead silence of the woods.

an adult. he needed an adult. someone please —

he had not been scared for a long, long, long time. mark had faced death a few times. all of those wretched deaths never sparked terror in him.

but—

“why?”

mark was certain their paths crossed only meant wretched endings for them.

another breath.

again.

//

wide eyed, he stared at yohan kneeling before him. he could not but slap his own checks, wincing at the pain, his cheeks red.

“you must—”

no. yohan was not the man to ever make light of such things.

a cheeky bastard. a friendly flirt. yes. he got mamen and women alike vying for his attention. a charming bastard. the Knight in shining armour. charming, of course. generous, yes. kind, yes. sweet, yes. funny, may be not good but enough to make one or two laugh.

yohan could have anyone.

yet—

“mine?” minheng tested the word on his tongue.

“mine.” there was strength to his voice, a certain greed weaving its way into his heart.

“mine,” minheng discarded the book he was holding — and he never disrespected the books like that — his sole attention focusing on yohan

his yohan. the handsome face of his illuminated so warmly and lovingly by the lamps.

minheng knew how attractive his /friend/ was. he had wondered time and time again if he would ever get the chance to feel yohan's melodious laughter breathing into him, the soothing rumble of his voice nestling into every pores of his being, make him tremble from the sheer joy of it.

“mine—” he levelled himself to yohan's gaze, grabbing at the lapel, dragging close.

“you know. you know —” his heart was erratic, scent haywire.

he was terrified. he was sweating, throat dry.

“you know what you are saying? that's,”

his composure was lost. minheng was scrambling for words.

“I will not forgive you if you die at someone else's hand. your life and you. mine.”

minheng should have worked on his social skills. mostly on the courting skills.

he was embarrassed.

but who cares?

“cheeky bastard—” a soft but affectionate whisper, his mouth closing on yohan's.

//

mark saw jeno's chest move.

“stupid wake up!”

he slapped the poor boy's cheek. partly out of frustration and mostly because he was mad.

this ing runt.

he breathed into the boy's mouth again. one. two.

it began moving. small coughs.

@lee mark ⋆ [ tw /cw : age gap. and kids dying. but soon to be revived please do not worry. ]



jeno's response to the impending danger was not one he consciously chose.

despite his body's automatic attempts to fight, to surface, his mind was eerily detached, as if he were an observer to his own plight. his thoughts were scattered, flashes of panic interspersed with an inexplicable calm.

then, it was a void that was neither dream nor fully reality.

//

as the last echoes of the knighting ceremony faded into the grandeur of the castle's stone walls, yohan, now adorned with the mantle of knighthood, felt a singular pull in his heart, guiding him not to the celebrations, but through the dimly lit corridors.

pushing open the library door, he was greeted by the sight of minheng, bathed in the tranquil amber glow of candlelight.

his heart skipped a beat, his composure faltering under the weight of his affections.

breathtaking, truly.

"you look particularly lovely tonight," yohan ventured, breaking the hush that enveloped them.

minheng looked up, the surprise quickly melting into a warm smile. "and you look positively radiant, sir yohan. i take it the ceremony went well?"

there was a teasing note that yohan found endearing.

his eyes sparkled with the achievement of the day, eager to share this joy with the one person who mattered most. he recounted the ceremony's highlights, the weight of the sword, the solemn vows, and the roar of the crowd.

"it was everything i could have hoped for and more," he confessed.

“the festivities in your honour— shouldn't you be at the feast, celebrating with the others?"

but the excitement of his accomplishment felt hollow without sharing it with the one that mattered the most to him.

"i wanted to see you first. everything else can wait.”

"...."

"i was reflecting on a question you posed earlier, about pledging my loyalty," yohan began, his approach measured.

"today, i made a pledge of loyalty— i pledged my service before the entire kingdom. but there's another i wish to make. one not bound by duty or title.”

closing the distance between them, yohan addressed the heart of his visit.

“i’m here…. i’m here to pledge my loyalty.” he continued, his tone soft yet resolute, “one that goes beyond the oaths of knighthood.”

“yohan, you realise i was merely—"

"i know," yohan interrupted softly, taking another step closer as he cradled minheng's cheeks in his palms. "but grant me this moment... will you?”

"minheng, you have been the keeper of my confidences, the source of my joy, and my steadying hand.”

the one whose presence made every honour pale in comparison.

"here, in this place of wisdom and quiet truths, among tales of heroes and legends, allow me to pledge… to you. to you, minheng, i vow not just my loyalty. i offer myself, not as a knight to his king, nor as a servant to his lord, but as one soul does to another.”

as he knelt and looked up, the symbolism of his actions unfurled like a banner in the wind – it was a personal declaration of loyalty, not to a throne nor the house, but solely to minheng. to the love of his life alone. his expression was earnest, his eyes locked on those pretty browns. his voice, steady and sure, echoed through the hallowed space – in a ceremony that bore no witness but the silent books and the shadows they cast.

"this pledge is my promise to you, born from a heart that... that cherishes you more than titles or accolades. i offer you my loyalty, my protection, my laughter, and my silent presence when words fall short. my commitment to you is to support not just who you are now, but also who you wish to become. may my actions always bring you honour, and may i always be worthy of your trust."

there was a pause.

yohan swallowed, eyes hopeful and searching.

“and…. and if you'll have me, i am yours, in every way that matters.”

//

limp and unresponsive.

a stark contrast to the lively, spirited boy he was moments before.

his skin, usually warm and flushed with the exuberance of youth, had taken on a pallid hue – almost lifeless, under the cold touch of the water soaking his clothes. without the rise and fall of his chest to indicate the barest thread of life, his lips bore a faint bluish tint, marking the cold's cruel kiss.

jeno was adrift in a nebulous space, teetering on the edge of dream and wakefulness, untouched by the urgent efforts to save him. the forceful compressions on his chest, the anxious calls of fear and desperation – all failed to reach him.

he merely floated in the darkness, suspended in a void where time and terror had no hold.

it didn’t feel… as agonising as one might expect.

[post deleted by owner]

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ ◆ tw /cw : age gap. and kids dying. ig.





/can you hear me?/

//

“I see you are cosy with the count's son.”

“we— ” minheng watched his own reflection in the mirror, dressed in luxury that looked humble and hair being braided.

and small pearls being pinned — a request minheng made specifically that surprised even his mother.

the memory of his mother's amused face came to his mind.

his cheeks flushed, the shade so vibrant that might put the dawning sky to shame.

“we are just friends. he's truly gentleman,” he continued, adjusting the cravat around his neck while his mother saw that his breakfast was being arranged on the table, “and an excellent Knight even. and both of you asked me to have great people at my disposal, didn't you?”

“ah! the gentleman one must have as their trusted friend. sworn brothers—,”

upon hearing the mention of it made minheng alarmed, his shoulders stiffening, a dread in his eyes he refused to acknowledge yet it was too late.

his mother smirked, looking at minheng with a sharp gaze that made him feel as as a baby, exposed included, “and you are dolling yourself up for the library visit and not the friend. certainly the theatrics of the academia, darling.”

“mother—” his artire was done being adjusted and mark turned to his mother, the florid cheeks left him exposed and helpless.

“yes?”

“can we not?”

it wasn't that minheng’s feeling was being read wrong. his mother had seen through him perfectly.

“fuc—”

“language, son,” his mother reprimanded.

it only added to the frown deepening on mingheng's features after he foolishly out of his own embarrassment swallowed the hot soup without a second thought.

truth burns. too ing much.

“.......”

he was certain his mother enjoyed his suffering.

—

“you came,” yohan loooked handsome.

the most handsome man minheng had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. mmingheng couldn't take his eyes off the man. his friend.

(yeah. friend.)

“of course I did, silly. it's your knighting ceremony. wouldn't miss it.”

“you look great today. you always do. but the most handsome right now. maybe it's the uniform. definitely the uniform.”

“so, are you going to pledge your loyalty to me, yohan.”

a silly question. a rhetoric one. he knew yohan belonged to the throne first. the house second.

and he was a friend.

(but you desire him.)

(yes.)

“it'll be difficult to see you. you know where to find me.”

//

is this karma?

mark eyed the who jumped into the water.

he opened his mouth, the water flooding inside.

and the real struggle began.

the instinct at last took over and his limbs began moving in perfect coordination instead of just moving wildly until the body was too wrecked to surviv.

not again. not again. not again. not again……

the thought raced through his head, panick settling in his system, insides twisting and turning.

mark might have pissed his pants.

(sorry jeno!)

the rest of it was a blurred frenzy.

he grabbed the body of ten year old jeno — a difficult task considering mark himself was no hunk capable of lighting a weight close to his with ease, especially in the water — dragging them towards the land.

he was already half dead, and it took its toll. even so mark didn't give up.

he could not. he wouldn't be able to live — another dreaded thought, the next life — if he caused his death again.

“and this is why I was ing running away from you. you ing dimwit.”

they were on the land. jeno was laid on the ground while mark wretched the water out of his system before he could start saving jeno.

it'd be okay. it'd be okay. it'd be okay…..

he wasn't there for long.

his whole frame was trembling. he was crying. nose runny. and he screamed, frustrated, wiping his own face with his wet clothes.

“...”

“if you die, I'm killing you next time myself. you are so pathetic.” he was compressig jeno's chest, trying his best to get the water out.

“pathetic. you're so pathetic.”

@lee mark ⋆ [ repeating prev cw / tw: fantasy age gap and I'm not kidding. this is uncomfy asf. suicidal. gay. ]

jeno stood there, his hand still outstretched, a mixture of confusion and hurt flickering across his young face as mark's harsh words cut through the air.

thump....

the bright, sunny day seemed to dim just a bit at the edges of his vision, the cheerful chirping of birds momentarily drowned out by the thumping of his own heart. the air, once filled with the anticipation of a new friendship, turned sour.

he couldn't understand why mark, the boy he had approached with nothing but friendly intentions, had reacted so violently.

he didn't understand what he had done wrong.

for a moment, jeno remained motionless, the offered hand slowly dropping to his side, the smile fading into a small frown. his eyes, wide and glistening, followed mark's retreating figure until it disappeared into the thick foliage of the woods.

he hesitated at the edge of the forest, contemplating a pursuit. however, the concrete jungles of the city were his comfort zone, not the dense, unfamiliar woods.

thump. thump. thump....

"why did he say that?" jeno whispered to himself, the words barely a breath.

the hurt began to simmer into a soft determination. jeno was ten, after all, not easily deterred by the first sign of adversity. he knew what friendship meant; he had read about it, seen it in movies, and even though his attempts at making friends were often clumsy.

"maybe he's just having a bad day," he reasoned as he rubbed against his damp eyes, the innate optimism of childhood creeping back into his voice.

thump. thump. thump. thump. thump....

he took a deep breath, the air filled with the scents of nature. jeno made a decision then, one that was perhaps brave or perhaps foolish, but entirely in line with the fearless heart of a child.

he ran off into the woods to chase after mark.

//

“a tour of the castle… i would like that,” young yohan answered shyly, his grin wide enough to turn his eyes into joyful crescents.

“thank you.”

the moment their hands intertwined, the seeds of friendship took root and began to flourish.

-

"like this, like this! you have to hold it firmly, see?" yohan explained, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of sharing his passion. he stepped closer, adjusting minheng’s grip on the stick with gentle hands, a smile playing on his lips.

"you're a fast learner. i bet you'd make a fine knight, alongside being the kingdom's smartest scholar," the younger giggled.

their wooden swords – mere sticks, yet in their imagination, mighty blades – met in the air with a soft clack as they sparred.

as the day waned, the sky painting itself in vibrant of gold and pink, they collapsed onto the grass, laughter mingling with their heavy breaths.

"do you think... when we're really old, will this day still be with us?"

an affirming nod and hum were his answer.

"what about when we're really, really, /really/ old?"

minheng's response, unwavering and confident:

"without a doubt, we will."

the garden around them seemed to hold its breath.

it was a promise, sweet and yet to be defined, but as real and tangible as the warm hand clasped in his.

//

the trees, once mere silhouettes against the sky, now bore witness to his purposeful strides. emerging into a clearing, jeno's eyes were drawn to the surface of a lake, its waters mirroring the azure sky above with deceptive serenity.

“mark…?”

thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump....

it was here, in this peaceful setting, that he found him.

to jeno, only ten and with a heart full of brave intentions, the sight was one of immediate danger – a friend (or soon to be) potentially drowning, his body eerily still in the embrace of the lake. his understanding of the situation was instinctive and simple; mark was in danger, and he needed help.

“MARK!”

with no time to second guess himself but with a significant dose of fear, jeno kicked off his shoes and plunged into the water. his movements were more a result of panicked urgency than any skilled swimming technique.

he had learned to swim in the controlled environment of a city pool, where the water was clear and the edges were always within reach. this… this was different – the lake was vast, its boundaries obscured by the natural landscape, and jeno found himself struggling against the unfamiliar pull of open water.

“can you hear me?!”

his limbs flailed in an attempt to propel himself forward. his breath came in short, sharp gasps, the cold of the water a shock against his skin. it became painfully clear that reaching mark was not going to be as straightforward as he had hoped.

but the sight of mark, so still and silent—

thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump. thump....

"hey, stay with me! i'm.... trying to get to you!"

panic began to set in as jeno realised he might not make it to the other boy in time. each attempt to push forward was met with resistance, his breaths becoming more laboured and his movements more desperate. the cold of the water seeped into his bones, sapping his strength and clouding his mind with fear.

in a moment of sheer terror, jeno understood he was outmatched by the lake's vastness and its hidden currents. it hit him hard, a crushing blow to his resolve.

“try— ing—” his voice barely carrying over the distance, a feeble cry swallowed by the silence, with water choking his words.

@lee jeno ᵖʳⁱᵐᵉ ✹ cw / tw: fantasy age gap and I'm not kidding. this is uncomfy asf. suicidal.

[https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=_7tHD8FghgY&;si=eHbcBjui0hqVySz0]

[thump! thump! thump! thump! thump! thump!..........]

you gotta be ing ting me?

this is ridiculous.

why? why now?

[thump! thump! thump! thump! thump! thump! thump! thump!......]

breathe!

breathe!

ing breathe!

the ten year old physical body of mark lee was like a fish out of water.

“hi!”

mark looked at the boy who had just approached him. from the expensive pair of shoes made from finest leather and wood for soles, and certainly bought recently for the purpose of camping, bright striped socks reaching calves, to the pair of shorts with a cartoon character stitched on one side. mark snorted at that, not the shoes, but quickly gathered his bearing, the face of indifference aka not panicking like a shameful thief caught red-handed in the act and went back to scrutinising the boy — he knows him, he knows him by the scent alone, and he hated himself for that fact alone. he noticed the equally adorable — must not smile. must not smile. must not smile — bright striped shirt the boy was wearing.

the very picture of an adorable — rich and spoiled though — child.

a hand was offered to offer him with a shy smile plastered on the face of the cutest boy, “I'm jeno.”

[thump!thump!thump!thump!thump!thump!thump!thump!......]

“you stink. piss off pipsqueak—”

mark — bile rising to his throat — crudely yelled and made a run for the woods no child of the solar pack would ever dare to enter.

mark ran and ran. as fast and far as his ten years old body could do. he ran and ran. ran deep into the woods until no traces of the wretched scent lingered in his system, replaced by the scent of nature — the soothing wet mud of the lake, the pinecones, the wild flowers, the sun and the heat of it.

“. ing —”

mark was near the lake. he considered jumping into it.

one step. two steps. a jump. he strode towards it. he ran towards the large body of water without a second thought.

he had lived enough. he lived long enough for ing centuries.

splash!

the small figure sank into the forever accommodating body of the lake. the kindest as ever as it made room for mark to snuggle inside her, embrace him.

three minutes.

hold on.

hold on.

the struggle started.

knowing how to swim was a curse.

but how do you forget a memory that never left you?

water filled his lungs.

//

“hi!”

minheng looked up from the book he was reading — the history of the kingdom cause mark was smart and liked to show-off and his father praised him; he was a child thinking he was too smart for other kids — in the library of the castle, nestled in a comfortable alcove with a window through which sunshine poured in just the right amount.

“hello?”

“I'm yohan—”

minheng took in the appearance of the boy — jeno lee. he saw the portrait of the boy a while ago. a part of his education belonged to knowing names and faces and who was who.

“yohan? yohan lee? that guy?”

“sorry. how rude of me. I'm minheng. we keep the records. you know.”

“you are much cuter in real life.”

mingheng talked as if he were years above and wiser than yohan.

he was not.

“since I'm your elder, where's your respectful bow, boy?”

minheng held back a smile, putting up the so called serious face his father used when dealing with the staff, adjusting his glasses for the effect and closing his book with a sigh.

“what brings you here? you know little kids like you should not wander around alone. what if the ghost of the castle gets you, hmm?”

“you are sweet.”

it's the sunlight warming him up. not the adorable noy itself.

“and cute.”

“did you get lost? want older brother to help you? I'm sure your father would be in the training grounds. he was training the soldiers. how did you end up here?”

minheng got down to the floor, book aside, dusted off his clothes, and offered his hand to the younger.

“or is it that you wish to tour the castle, child?”

//

close. close. close. justs a little bit more. s little bit more.

[post deleted by owner]

[post deleted by owner]

(tw: heavy angst, pregnancy)

the light of two computer monitors flickered in the darkened room, illuminating the man slumped over in his chair with his head pillowed on his arms. evidently lulled into a peaceful slumber, his breathing was deep and undisturbed by the reel of videos that were auto-playing on one screen. on the other was a schematic of a building and a number of photos that corresponded to actual locations within it. the dreamer had clearly been working on something until he'd succumbed to nostalgia...
---
"you're so pretty like this." a voice whispered through the speakers, belonging to the person holding the camera. the video zoomed in on another man with a messy mop of curls who was sitting cross legged among what appeared to be the various pieces of a crib spread out across the floor, a paper of unhelpful instructions on assembly in his lap. he wore an oversized hoodie, but the beginnings of a baby bump was unmistakable.

"stop it." the omega insisted with equal amounts feigned exasperation and bashfulness, clearly flustered by the compliments when he was trying to focus. not to mention the camera that was promptly shoved in his face with a laugh as the person filming got down onto the floor with him.

"never." he insisted with a cute pout in his voice that could clearly be seen as he pushed the instructions aside to lay his head in his partner's lap instead. he held up the camera, trying to catch both of them as he nuzzled into the man's tummy. a soft huff of protest could be heard, but the omega's smile was fond as he reached down to card his fingers encouragingly through his mate's hair. "so beautiful... all cute and determined building the crib for our pup. you're gonna be such a good mum, you know that, hm? god, i love you. love both of you..."

this time the omega's breath hitched and he glanced away from the camera, blinking hard against the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. there was a moment of comfortable silence that passed between them before Chan let out a soft 'oh' and his hand came up to gently touch his stomach. the man in his lap perked up, his eyes bright and expectant.

"i think they heard you. do it again, do it again~" Chan chirped in a happy tone and brought the man's hand up to rest against the swell of his tummy as well. the two went still, waiting, before ecstatic smiles played across both their features as they felt the pup move. the last snippet as the alpha dropped the phone was of him cupping his lover's cheeks in both hands and moving in for what looked like a kiss.
---
the video switched to another, revealing one of what appeared to be a relatively newborn baby laid out in a swing. the person holding the camera spoke softly as the youngling glanced around, distracted by the motion of the moon and star mobile that slowly circled above before their eyes fell on the portrait that was held just wear they could see. "oh, you looked! do you see it?" the person just off screen asked hopefully and angled the picture better to try to help the babe make heads or tails of what they saw. chubby little hands reached out for the frame, curling around it and-

"that's it. that's your appa right there. he- oh no!"

and promptly tried to put the frame right into their mouth. the person filming let out a trill of stunned laughter and gently took it away, quick to give the baby their pacifier instead before setting the photo back off screen.

"one day you'll meet him, baby." he whispered to the pup, letting them grab onto his finger instead. when his spoke again, his voice was strained. tight with restrained emotion. "until then, we have to make lots of videos for him, okay?" his thumb traced along the little hand and the video played a bit longer until their eyes got heavy, stopping on a still of the pup dozing off.
---
in the next one that started, the baby was significantly bigger, able to sit up on their own as they played with a bunch of toys on a mat. The same male voice from earlier spoke off-camera again as he watched the baby pick up a ball. "do you like the ball?" he asked patiently as he watched the nearly one year old immediately nibble at the toy. "can you say ball?"

the spit covered ball was tossed away and the baby continued like it never happened, searching around for something else until their eyes fell on the photo that was set next to their play area.

"pa."

"what? what did you say?" it took a moment for the man filming to catch up as he tried to follow their gaze. when he did, he quickly grabbed the photo and moved it closer to the baby who reached out to grab it. the little one was clearly perceiving it more than he did in prior videos, turning it over in his little hands. "did you say 'appa'? did you say 'appa', baby?" Chan asked expectantly as the pup smacked its hand against the glass covering the photo as if in affirmation.

"pa!"

the gasp that slipped from the omega was shaky. "yes! that's right! that's appa. oh my gosh!" he cooed and promptly set the camera aside, cognizant enough to keep it slightly propped to keep filming because he knew someone else would want to see it later. someone who /deserved/ to share in the moment his son called him 'dad'. Chan scooped the pup up to squish him to his chest, nuzzling his cheek affectionately against the top of his head which had begun to sport the same dark, curly hair like his own.

"that's him, baby..." he whispered thinly, like his voice was a shaking leaf waiting to be blown from the branches by a strong breeze. soft sniffles could vaguely be heard as he mindlessly scented the pup. "you did such a good job. you're so smart."

eventually the omega set the baby in his lap and reached for the camera to turn it off, purposely turning his tear-stained face away to try to obscure it from view. only smiles... it was a happy moment, so he could only show smiles for when /he/ watched it later...