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how do you like me now? (do I turn you on?)

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Johnny had a lot of sex. With a lot of people. Guys, girls, celebrities, foreigners, club-goers, convenience store workers, Taeyong – almost everyone.

Everyone except Mark. 

Mark was five years younger than Johnny. When they first met, Johnny was a full-fledged adult and Mark was an awkward thirteen-year-old who had only ever held hands with a girl. And eight years later, not much had changed. Except for the fact that Mark and Johnny’s self-labelled “bromance” had morphed into an embarrassingly one-sided crush.  

Mark liked Johnny. Really, everyone liked Johnny, but Mark liked him the most. He was funny and handsome and he paid for Mark’s lunch more than a few times, even when Mark didn’t forget his own wallet. And when Mark grew tall enough to reach Johnny’s shoulder, and Johnny grabbed his hand when Mark was scared on an amusement park ride, his crush on the older boy was fully realized. 

Having a crush on someone was hard. It was a lot harder when you worked and lived with them, with people watching your every move. And it was especially hard to watch your crush bring home a new person every weekend. And to hear the noises through the thin white wall that separated your bedrooms.  

Yes, Mark had jerked off to that before. The noises. Most of the time he put in his headphones and turned over to sleep, heart aching. But sometimes, when it was a guy, who sounded enough like Mark, he all but pressed his ear up to the wall and touched himself to the rhythm that Johnny set. 

Sex with Johnny – Mark could only imagine. If just the sound of Johnny’s headboard smacking against the wall could get Mark to finish, he could only guess how good it would feel to be one of those people in Johnny’s bed. Johnny on top of him, all of his weight pressing Mark down into the mattress, over and over. It could be rough or gentle – whatever Johnny wanted, Mark would do it. Just like in real life. Johnny offered Mark some of his coffee? Mark gulped it down. Johnny wanted to try a new restaurant? Mark was ready to go in five minutes. Johnny needed help with the dishes? Mark was there, with two pairs of yellow rubber gloves in hand. 

Any normal person would have taken advantage of Mark's pliancy by now, he was sure of it. But Johnny never did. He was so nice to Mark. He treated him like a real little brother. Every time Johnny patted Mark’s head and ruffled his hair after a job well done in the studio, Mark’s insides tingled. “That’s my boy!” Johnny had cheered, pulling him into a tight hug after Mark bounded off the stage after his first emceeing role at Inkigayo. “You did good, kid,” Johnny said into Mark’s ear, their cheeks pressed together for only a moment, and when Mark leaned back and looked into Johnny’s dark eyes, his mouth betrayed him. 

“I did good?” he blurted out. Johnny laughed in response. 

“You did great.” 

That’s my boy. You did great. Johnny’s proclamations rang in Mark’s head for days. He started to fish for compliments. 

“Johnny, does this look okay?” 

“Johnny, these eggs taste good, right?” 

“Johnny, how do these lyrics sound?” 

Mark had always liked to be applauded. Who didn’t? But coming from Johnny, the praise felt different – it hit him right in his gut. He felt so warm when Johnny told him he did a good job, and even warmer when Johnny called him affectionate names. My boy, Johnny announced proudly when Mark beat Yuta in a game of Overwatch, or guessed what food Johnny was craving for dinner. Pretty boy, in a joking tone when Mark could barely raise half of what Johnny was lifting with ease in the gym. 

The more Johnny praised him and called him pet names, the more Mark craved. In the back of his mind, Mark knew that Johnny’s praises were all meant for a friend. A little brother. But as much as he could live with that, Mark still wanted more. He wanted Johnny breathing praise into his ear, his fingers wrapped around Mark’s throat, his broad chest pressed against Mark’s back. Such a good boy, Johnny would say, his other hand trailing down the front of Mark’s body lazily. Such a good boy for me. Adoring Mark as much as he did now, in a very different way. 

Mark didn’t know exactly how to go about it all. Sometimes, he stayed up til the break of dawn scripting his confession.  

Johnny, we’ve been friends for a long time... but I think I want to be more than friends.  

Johnny, will you go on a date with me?  

Johnny, I like you.  

But in the morning when the two locked eyes in the kitchen, Mark's mind always went blank. “Do you want some coffee?” Johnny would ask, and Mark would nod fervently. He always acted like he loved the taste. Really, it was a little too bitter. But Mark still sipped on it nonetheless, sitting at the island, watching Johnny’s broad back as the older boy cleaned the kitchen up leisurely. Thinking, but never saying. 

(In reality, what Mark really wanted to say to him was let me be good for you, let me be your good boy.

So Mark was resigned to just thinking. And watching. Watching Johnny scrub the dishes, watching Johnny run on the treadmill, watching Johnny style his hair. Watching Johnny bring other people home – that was the only part of watching Johnny that Mark didn’t like. Johnny bringing home his conquests, Mark sitting alone in his room. Two fingers knuckle deep in himself, but whoever Johnny was fucking was getting a lot more than that. Mark didn’t know that it was possible to be jealous of someone who he’d never seen – was it pathetic to envy no more than a voice that he could hear through a wall? He knew Johnny never let them stay, anyways. They never spent the night. They didn’t mean anything to him. At least, Mark was pretty sure. 

Sometimes, Mark could have sworn that Johnny knew exactly what he was doing to him. The grin that was plastered on Johnny’s face when Mark stuttered, the teasing tone that he used when Mark was flustered.  

“Do you think these are too tight?” Mark had asked as Johnny lounged on his bed, tapping at his phone idly. He gestured at the torn black jeans that he was wearing. Johnny’s gaze felt like a trail of lava running down his body. 

“They’re pretty tight,” Johnny eventually admitted. 

“Too tight for a movie date?” 

“A movie date?” Johnny asked, his back straightening as he sat up suddenly. “Oh, he’s got a movie date!” 

Mark’s cheeks reddened. “It’s not that big of a deal…” he started to backtrack, suddenly embarrassed. 

“You look good!” Johnny assured him, and reached out for Mark’ cheek to pinch it, the space between them suddenly feeling claustrophobic.  

He thinks you look good. “Yeah?” Mark managed to stammer out miraculously, and Johnny smiled wide. 

“Try to be a good boy, okay?” Johnny teased. Mark stumbled backwards, avoiding eye contact, his hands immediately traveling downwards to cover what was inevitably going to pop up. 

Mark went to the movies alone that night. 

Of course, Mark was a little buzzed. He wasn’t drunk by any means, but he wasn’t sober either. It was inevitable, though – there was no way Mark could confess to Johnny without some kind of buffer. 

They were sharing Mark’s bed, too small for the both of them to fit, watching a Youtube video that Mark couldn’t pay attention to as Johnny’s very muscular and very sleeveless arm pressed against his own. “We should do something like this for my next video,” Johnny was saying. Mark could only hum in response, distracted by the sound of Johnny’s breathing in such close proximity. 

“What do you wanna do?” Johnny asked, presumably about their next video together, but Mark’s mind couldn’t help but wander. There were so many things that he wanted to do. Unzip Johnny’s pants with his teeth. Lick at Johnny’s cock through the fabric of his underwear. Let Johnny bend him over and fuck him untouched. Swallow every last drop that Johnny unloaded on his outstretched tongue. 

“Johnny,” Mark declared, his head a little fuzzy from the soju that they had earlier at dinner. 

“Yes?” 

“I wanna be… good… for you,” he managed to say, cringing internally at the cliché wording, but there was no other way to say it. No more beating around the bush – Mark wanted to be Johnny’s good little boy. 

Johnny leaned back with a puzzled look on his face. “I mean... I think you do great in the videos,” he said haltingly, his words trailing off into a small laugh. 

Mark shook his head at this. “No. I don’t mean it like that,” he responded quietly, and made no move to explain himself, looking down at his own lap abashedly. 

“How do you mean it?” Johnny prodded, patting at Mark’s thigh gently.  

Mark had considered crawling into a hole and never coming back out, but one touch from Johnny’s hand and he involuntarily spat everything out. “Like... tell me what to do. And I’ll do it. And if I do it good…can you tell me?”  

No answer came. Mark could feel Johnny staring. “And if I’m bad, too,” Mark quickly added, his cheeks heating up. When he dared to look up at Johnny, the older boy was unblinking. He still looked confused, but there was a foreign expression hidden underneath, one that Mark had never seen on Johnny’s face before. 

“I don’t understand,” Johnny finally said, his voice tender, as if he was afraid to startle a small animal. 

Mark let out a shaky breath, his body running so hot he felt like he was about to explode. Here goes nothing. “I wanna be a good boy for you,” he whispered tentatively, wringing his hands together in his lap. “I want... you to fuck me,” he continued, wincing at the word fuck, “if that’s what you want.”  

Nothing but silence on Johnny’s end. Mark didn’t risk even looking up from his lap at this point. He could feel his palms starting to sweat. “And I can do other stuff too, whatever you want. Like, I’ll suck you off,” Mark progressed, his voice getting louder as he started to babble. “I don’t really know if you like that, but if you do, I’ll do it. I want to. I want to-” 

Johnny’s hand clapped lightly over Mark’s mouth before he had the chance to continue. Instinctively, Mark looked up into Johnny’s eyes, surprised by the sudden contact. Mark still couldn’t decipher that look – it was unfamiliar and intense, and despite his previous burst of courage Mark was suddenly feeling apprehensive.  

“You really want to?”  

Mark’s eyes widened in shock at Johnny’s question, both unable and unsure of how to respond as Johnny’s hand shifted from over his mouth to underneath his chin, holding it firmly between his fingers.  

“You wanna be my good boy?” Johnny asked, his tone low, and Mark instantly nodded in confirmation, his cock already uncomfortably hard in the confines of his tight jeans.  

“Yes, please,” Mark breathed out, and in a split second he was lifted with ease onto Johnny’s lap. It felt so good, just to be there. He was so much bigger than Mark, in every way – even the hands on his hips felt unfamiliar in how large they were. Johnny nuzzled into Mark’s neck and pressed a soft kiss there. Mark keened at this, leaning in to the pressure from Johnny’s lips, and he felt Johnny’s wry smile grow against his own skin. 

“If you wanna be good, you gotta stay still,” Johnny murmured, his tone teasing. Mark sat up straight immediately, his head spinning from the order. “That’s my boy,” Johnny leaned in and whispered against the outer shell of Mark’s ear, eliciting a full body shiver from the latter. “My good boy.” He kissed Mark again, this time right below his ear, and Mark reveled in the soft, wet sound that it made. Johnny kissed his way across Mark’s jaw to his mouth, and then they were really kissing, Johnny’s tongue forceful against Mark’s lips. 

Mark scooted closer to Johnny so that their chests were touching, only separated by the thin fabric of their t-shirts. Frustrating. He clutched feebly at the hem of Johnny’s shirt, hoping that the older boy would get the message – Mark was in no position to take off either of their shirts. His arms felt like Jell-O. Johnny hummed knowingly, and his hands slowly snuck their way up Mark’s shirt. Mark gasped when Johnny’s fingers first grazed over his nipples, then let out a small yelp when Johnny pinched at one. 

“Do you like that?” Johnny asked with a grin, pushing Mark’s shirt up to his neck slowly so that his chest was exposed. Mark nodded earnestly, his hands still fisted tightly in Johnny’s shirt. Johnny pushed Mark down tenderly so that his back was flush against the mattress. His hands traveled across Mark’s bare abdomen and chest towards his nipples, where Johnny tweaked them again lightly. Mark let out a whine, squirming underneath him involuntarily. In response, Johnny pressed Mark down into the bed firmly. 

“Are you gonna sit still for me?” Johnny asked, his voice a bit less gentle this time. 

“Yes,” Mark gasped out, finally releasing two handfuls of Johnny’s shirt and quickly putting his hands behind his back and underneath himself, as if to keep himself from moving. Johnny, who was sat on his knees between Mark’s spread legs, smiled at this. 

“Cute.” Johnny took off his own shirt swiftly, crossing his arms in the front and pulling it over his head. Mark couldn’t help but stare – Johnny had a great body. Mark hyper-focused on the dark trail of hair that was peeking out of the waistband of Johnny’s jeans, which hung low on his hips. Both boys now shirtless, Johnny adjusted his position so that he was completely on top of Mark, holding himself up easily with his forearms. As their bare upper bodies touched, Mark marveled at their size difference. 

When Johnny rolled his hips against Mark for the first time, Mark saw stars. Even through the rough fabric of their jeans, Mark could feel the outline of Johnny’s cock. And he liked it. Way too much for his own good. 

“Who’s my good boy?” Johnny asked low in Mark’s ear, breaking him out of his daze. 

“I am,” Mark managed to squeak out, and Johnny rewarded him with a kiss to the jaw. 

“You are,” Johnny answered assuredly, setting an unbearably slow pace as he rolled his hips suggestively against Mark’s pelvis. Johnny was grinding against him, his breathing hot and heavy in Mark’s ear, and it barely took a minute for Mark to bite his own lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to calm himself down. 

Mark was trying to hold out, he really was. If he came now, Johnny would laugh at him. But it was so much, too much, Mark had been waiting for years and it was even better than he had imagined, acted out, dreamt. “Wait,” Mark choked out, and Johnny slowed his pace. 

“You okay?” he asked, his tone concerned. 

“I...” Mark trailed off, his hips stuttering up weakly. 

Johnny pressed a wet kiss to Mark’s mouth, somehow understanding that the urgency in Mark’s voice wasn’t from refusal, but from desperation. Johnny rolled his hips once more against Mark’s pelvis forcibly. “Go ahead." 

Mark’s mouth fell open, jaw slack, and his vision went black as his eyes squeezed shut. “Oh my God,” he breathed out, and then he was coming in his pants, the same ripped black jeans that Johnny had complimented weeks ago. Coming underneath Johnny – a dream come true, but he barely had a chance to bask in the afterglow. Too embarrassed to witness Johnny’s reaction, Mark buried his reddening face into the other’s neck. 

“What a good boy,” Johnny was murmuring as he carded his fingers through Mark’s messy hair, and Mark could hear himself whimpering like he was in heat. “You came so hard,” Johnny continued, sounding a little awed. “I’ve never seen somebody shake like that.” Mark's chest swelled with pride, and he propped himself up on his elbows unsteadily, reaching up for a kiss. Johnny caught his lips in stride, and licked into Mark’s mouth nimbly with no resistance.  

“C’mere,” Johnny directed, pulling Mark back up onto his lap. Johnny’s tongue lazily swirled around in Mark’s mouth as their bodies fit together again – much shorter than Johnny, Mark’s sharp collarbones bumped against Johnny’s chest. Johnny’s hands slid underneath and down the backside of Mark’s jeans, his hands squeezing at Mark’s bare skin there. He hummed contentedly and brought one of his hands back up to Mark’s hair, where he tugged on a fistful of Mark’s dark locks, pulling Mark’s head backwards and earning a high-pitched sound of pleasure. 

Mark was melting under Johnny’s attention. “Johnny…” he all but sobbed, his previous intentions of acting aloof completely thrown out the window. 

“What do you want, baby?” Johnny murmured in between the bruises that he was sucking onto Mark’s neck. 

“Can I…” 

“Gonna come again, baby?” Johnny asked sweetly, and Mark shook his head vehemently, still ashamed at coming so fast before. 

“I wanna suck your dick,” he whimpered, voice barely audible. 

Johnny grabbed Mark’s face, squeezing Mark’s cheeks in his hand, forcing Mark’s eyes up to meet his. “I can’t hear you, baby,” Johnny responded, voice sickeningly sweet. “Use your voice.” 

“Can I please suck your dick?” Mark asked, the embarrassment of having to ask aloud getting him even harder. In response, Johnny simply smiled, unbuttoning his pants and sitting back. Mark quickly wriggled in between Johnny’s widespread legs to lay on his stomach. He tugged Johnny’s jeans down to his knees, and his boxers quickly followed, cock springing up out of its confines. Hard, for Mark . Mark made Johnny feel good, made him want more. The very thought brought Mark close to the edge again. 

Mark had never given a blowjob before. He licked at the tip experimentally, drawing a hiss out of Johnny. “Fuck, Mark,” Johnny tugged on his hair again, pulling him closer. “Don’t make me wait,” he groaned. Mark was sure that he didn’t mean it as an order, but he took it that way anyways, and wasted no time taking Johnny into his mouth. 

Johnny’s cock was big. Long and thick, Mark could barely fit half of it in his mouth without gagging. But he tried his damndest, making good use of his hands as he licked his palms and worked them up and down Johnny’s shaft while he sucked on the head. “Look up at me,” Johnny said, pulling on Mark’s hair again to tilt his head up. Mark widened his eyes as he looked up at Johnny, his mouth starting to tire. “You look so good like that,” Johnny murmured, his hand cupping Mark’s cheek for a moment. Mark whined around Johnny’s length, eliciting another groan from the latter.  “God, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured this,” he continued. “I’ve really waited a long time for this. For those eyes.” 

His words went straight to Mark’s groin. Coupled with the hair pulling, Johnny’s praise was bringing him to the edge again, and just the friction between Mark’s clothed cock and the bedsheets would probably be enough for him to come again. But Mark was so drunk on Johnny’s pleasure that he paid no attention to his own impending orgasm. In fact, he barely noticed when he came again, rutting against the bed as Johnny’s groans spurred him on. 

“Gonna come for you, baby,” Johnny moaned, legs shifting restlessly, and he gently pushed Mark off of him. Mark opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue immediately. He wanted it on his tongue, in his throat, he wanted to swallow it all. But Johnny shook his head at this. “Close your mouth,” he ordered, his hand working quickly on his own cock. “You did a good job, baby. You deserve it on your face,” Johnny claimed very matter-of-factly. Mark could only whimper at this. 

Mark found himself on his back once more, Johnny’s knees on either side of his head, when the unfamiliar sensation of Johnny’s cum painted over his cheek. “Fuck,” Johnny moaned, and he kept coming for what seemed like forever. Mark resisted the urge to stick his tongue out and lick at what had covered his lips. 

When Johnny had finished, he slouched over Mark’s body breathlessly, reaching for Mark’s face with one hand. “So pretty,” he declared, the pad of his thumb swiping over the cum on Mark’s cheek. He brought it to Mark’s lips, where the latter promptly opened his mouth. “That’s my boy,” Johnny murmured as Mark sucked on his finger with vigor. 

Johnny pulled Mark into his lap for one final time, kissing him with a compassion that Mark was certain he himself was imagining. He melted into Johnny’s chest all too easily, body still shaky. Johnny pulled Mark down with him as he sank down into the bed, the two effortlessly falling into a comfortable position together. Johnny hummed contentedly, drawing Mark closer. Mark’s stomach swooped, hoping that this was an invitation to stick around. “Should I leave?” he whispered after a moment, afraid that Johnny had already fallen asleep. 

“Stay.”