Chapter 37: WOLO
Mina rarely talks to me now and there's very little I can do to repair the damage in our relationship. This is especially true now that our executive producers and other bosses are so obviously giving me less editing work and more time out of the office. For example, today I'm supposed to help out with the edits for the Flight Log: Departure Concert DVD, but here I am, waiting for Jackson at the airport because his manager got sick and no one's around to pick him up after his event in China. I can't really say no when the other person at the end of the line is in bed with a really scratchy throat and high fever.
I didn't anticipate the amount of people waiting along with me at the airport. Jackson just won an award and everyone including their mothers are excited to see him back in Korea. I'm extra fidgety by the time I hear screams near the arrival area. I roll my windows back up and drive forward, careful not to run over anyone as the airport martials signal people to make way for the idol. It takes 25 minutes for Jackson to finish waving to his fans, reach my car, open the passenger door, toss his bag to the back seat, and strap himself in. It takes a few seconds for me to snap back and start driving. "Where's your manager hyung?" I ask. I was expecting Jackson to sit behind because passenger seats are mostly reserved for managers.
"He's taking a taxi home. His wife is about to give birth," Jackson answers while reclining his seat to a more comfortable position.
"Oh my God, really?!"
"Yeah, I told him to go home directly. He's so excited and anxious all through out the flight." He says, smiling fondly. "Sorry to bother you today, I know you're supposed to be at work." Jackson adds, taking his black cap off and running his fingers through his hair before putting it back on. It amazes me that after a sleepless night and an early flight, he's still looking out for people.
"Well, this IS work. You're part of my work so..."
"No, I mean, aren't you supposed to be editing videos or something? Like, I didn't think you'd actually be driving me around like this, you're a video producer not a driver, or a manager." I can tell that he's a bit flustered by the way he shifts his body towards me, his hands gesturing wildly. Everytime I glance I see the worried look on his face.
"Yeah, well... Mina's there..." I answer, smiling sadly. She doesn't even eat lunch with me and Jenny anymore. "And your manager sounded really sick over the phone so I offered to help. I don't have much editing to do anyway, they're taking all of my projects away."
"Does that mean you're signing Hyung's offer?" Jackson asks, his smile getting bigger.
"Yeah... Did Sheen tell you?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me."She told us at MAMA, remember? You were there! But she said it in Chinese so only Mark and I understood." Jackson casually says, reminding me of the after party and that moment at the hotel where I was busy trying to film B-rolls and dodge Mark's efforts at flirting. I decide to steer the conversation away from the details of the contract by asking him about the Weibo awards night. He's obviously still reeling about his award so I let him blab about his winning speech and his new celebrity acquaintances until we reach GOT7's new dorms in Cheongdam-dong.
I stop by the front doors of the building expecting Jackson to hop off and get some well-deserved rest. "The parking is over there," He suddenly says, pointing me towards the side of the building. I drive to the given direction, park, and wait without much thought. Jackson gets out of my car, takes his bag from the back seat and goes, "What are you still doing there? Aren't you coming up with me?"
"Huh, I thought you're not allowed to have guests inside?" I ask, knowing that JB forbade the boys to invite people over. No one, other than JYP and their managers, know the exact address of their new dorms because we've had problems with security and privacy way too many times before."Yeah, but you're my manager today, remember?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me and I laugh, finally switching off the engine.
I've never been to their old dorm but based on the archived video clips, I can tell that the new dorm is bigger and better than the old one. For one thing they already have individual rooms, except for BamBam and Yugyeom who refuse to part ways. The place is littered with clothes and dog toys, which I assume were Coco's though she's nowhere to be found. "Where's everyone?" I ask, taking my green bomber jacket off.
"Oh, I don't know. I think they all went home. BamBam and Yugyeom are probably hanging out with Jungkook." Jackson says, taking his own black moto jacket off and tossing his bag and his shoes aside."Has Jungkook been here?" I ask. The boy is literally the sweetest, cutest, most shy thing I've ever met. Namjoon calls him a beagle which somehow made me expect that he's been here at least once already because knowing the older boys, they're often soft for kids like Jungkook.
"Yeah, they hang out here. But I think they're with the Seventeen boys right now. You know... Normal people stuff..." His statement makes my heart constrict a bit. It's as if it's become a luxury for people like them to be normal. Jackson plops onto the black sofa that's big enough to fit the whole of Seventeen, his heavy sigh reaffirming his contentment at being at home. "That's Mark's room, he's probably there..." He adds, pointing towards a plain white door behind me before closing his eyes.
I walk towards it and knock softly, stealing glances at Jackson from time to time. When Mark doesn't answer, I open the door gently and peek inside. "Mark?"
Mark looks up from his phone and our eyes lock. I smile at him as I open the door wider, allowing half of my body to show. He takes his earphones off with a faint smile, his eyes bigger than it was a while ago. "Can I come in?" I ask.
"Y-yeah... Come on." He answers putting his phone down. I timidly enter, closing the door gently as I survey the room. I know Mark is a very organized guy but I still didn't expect that his room would be so much cleaner than mine. His things are sorted out in boxes, tucked neatly in the corner of the room beside a white built-in closet. There's an alcove with a huge shelf filled with fan gifts next to a simple white dresser. The gray walls are bare save for a massive television mounted on the space beside the door. "Where's Jackson?" He asks, taking my focus away from the sole picture of his family in a frame on the shelf.
"Oh, he's outside..." I answer, pointing to the general direction of the living room.
"Have you been on Twitter?" He asks out of the blue.
"Huh?" Mark moves to the edge of his bed and signals me to come closer. He hands me his phone and I immediately check what's on his screen. GOT7's Twitter hashtag feed is littered with photos of Jackson at the airport, and of me sitting in my car looking bored as heck. "Oh my God..."
"I hope for your sake that the fans didn't follow you here," He says, worry etched on his face.
"I-I didn't think..."
"You didn't think this would start a dating rumor because you thought it wasn't a big deal, right?" I feel so small right now even as I tower over him. The master-nim who tweeted the photos didn't even really assume that we're dating. They just pointed out that it was me who picked Jackson up from the airport. Most of those who saw the tweet, however, reacted by citing instances of seeing how close we are in person especially during fan events. Out of all the members, I'm most comfortable with Jackson, probably even more comfortable than when I am in public with Mark. With Mark, I often feel conflicted, guilty beyond belief and scared that even the littlest touch, the shortest talk, the most intermittent gaze, could give away the details behind closed doors.
"I-I'm sure it will go away soon," I say, still feeling unsure. I watch Mark scroll aimlessly down the feed, silently seething. He stops on one of the posts and taps on a photo of me standing on front of Jackson with my back to him, his two hands gripping my arm. I don't know where the heck the fans got that photo, or how they even manage to take sneaky photos like that, but it was enough to piss me off. I take Mark's phone from his hand and lock it.
"What if it doesn't go away?" He asks.
"It will." I confidently say, putting his phone on the side table and making a mental note to talk to Nawoon later. I'm sure we can do something to turn this around. Mark sighs deeply before leaning back against his pillows.
"Wait..." I say, sitting down on the bed. He looks at me with his tired, puppy dog eyes. "Is this making you jealous again?" He just shrugs in response.
"I mean, I know it's nothing and I don't really have a say in it because I'm not your boyfriend bute—" The bed tips as I lean towards him. I take his face with both hands and kiss him deeply while his hands move instinctively to my waist to hold me closer. When we part, the sound of our kiss breaks the silence in the room. "What was that for?" He asks.
"So you'd stop overthinking..." I answer, smiling slyly. He pulls me closer and kisses me again, harder and more urgent than the first, our tongues fighting for dominance until he lets me breakaway, panting a little. "What was that for?" It's my turn to ask.
"So you'd know I'm overthinking because I missed you so bad..." Mark starts kissing me again, his lips crashing against mine in lust. I whimper as he captures my lips, my tongue, my whole being, his hands gripping my waist tightly as he pulls me and guides me to straddle him. It's only been a few weeks since we stopped talking and yet here we are, replacing words with push and pull all over again. I wrap my arms around his neck, desperate for more.
"Mark..." My breathy call makes him hiss as he makes his way down my neck. "Oh baby..."
"You like this? Does it feel good?" He asks me, trailing wet kisses down the sides of my neck, hands traveling to my breasts. I feel him sucking on the skin near my collarbone and it makes me moan softly as I arch my back."Fuck, baby, please don't tell me you just left a bruise for everyone to see..."
"I'm just marking my territory." He says chuckling against my skin before creating another bruise along my neck. I bite my lower lip, desperate not to show that I'm enjoying every bit of it. Somehow it feels really good to be owned by him, even if it's just a bruise, even for just a minute. He licks the bruises he created and stops to look at them with pride in his eyes. "My hickeys look great on you."
"Oh you're such an asshole, how am I going to cover this up for work?!" I ask, playfully hitting his chest.
"Wear the choker Bam gave you, you look hot wearing that." reminding me of the one time BamBam made me wear the choker that his fan gave him. He even helped me wear it and I remember seeing Mark's dark stare at the boy who's obviously enjoying standing so close behind me, and at the thick material of the choker on my skin.
"Mmmhhh... Is this your daddy kink talking?" I say seductively as his fingers gently move the stray hairs that frame my face. Then he wraps his hands around my ponytail, testing me, kissing me again. I remember how angry sex with Mark unleashed a different side of hime—and of me.
"Yup... So be a good girl and call me daddy." He says before kissing me harshly his fingers still tangled in my hair.
"Daddy..." A breathy moan escapes me again when we part and the sound makes him smile.
"Yeah, that's it. Grind on me baby girl..." His two hands move down my hips and he guides me to a slow and steady dry hump. His member is getting harder as I hold on to his shoulders, our lips meeting for hungry kisses every once in a while. Suddenly we hear the door open.
"Uhm, guys..." Jackson's voice immediately makes me stop. "Sorry to interrupt your mini-party but I just wanna let you know that I can hear everything through the wall in my room next door so..."
"Shit." I mutter, burying my face on the space where Mark's shoulder meets his neck. Mark puts his arm around me protectively.
"Jackson get out!" Mark shouts before throwing a pillow at him with his other arm.
"Fine, I'll just put my headphones on." The younger man says, sounding defeated as he closes the door.
"God, okay, let's just stop," I say, attempting to move away from Mark's grip.
"No, hey, please..." Holding me still, and even more closer. His breath tickles me when he whispers in my ear. "Can you feel that? I want you so bad now, Baby..." He makes me grind on him again and true enough his dick got even harder inside his cotton shorts. I want to refuse, but his shining eyes and evil smirk makes it unbelievably impossible to get away.
"Let's just keep it quiet..." He says before taking my white shirt off. "You're going to try not to moan too loud, right?" Mark then takes his own tank top off, his muscles rippling, hypnotising me.
"Yes Daddy..." I answer. He then hauls me off his lap and lays me on his bed gently, his eyes scanning my body hungrily.
"Good girl..." He kisses my neck again and his tongue travels down to my breasts, expertly removing my bra before creating obscene-looking hickeys all over my chest. He kisses me down my stomach and licks at my hipbone as he opens up my jeans. Slowly but surely, he rids me of my clothes, and when I'm finally fully naked he slithers out of the bed to strip and put on a condom. I hear him shuffling around, looking for a few things. Then there's a loud click as he locks the door, probably so that Jackson won't interrupt us again.
"Give me your hands," Be orders, kneeling on the bed. I hold my hands out to him and he gathers my wrists with a necktie."Jesus, Mark, I didn't think you'd really dig this 50 Shades concept..." I quietly sneer. He responds with a high-pitched laugh while attemptinge—and failinge—to make a decent knot. He ties my wrists with his navy blue necktie anyway, his half-assed job making me laugh as well. Then he produces a black sock and forms a ball out of it. Mark asks me to open my mouth wide. "Are you serious?!"
"I'm so fucking serious. I know you, you'll scream, you can't help it." His eyes tell me he's not giving Jackson, or anybody for that matter, the satisfaction of hearing my loud sex sounds emanating from his bedroom. I obey him, opening my mouth wide for gagging. He places the sock in between my lips, makes me bite on it hard, taunting me not to make a sound or he'll never make me come. For some reason, my heart starts beating wildly and my whole body seems on fire. Then he spreads my legs a bit more eagerly than usual, his fingers grazing my inner thighs, making me close my eyes.
Mark's fingers trace the folds of my pussy, spreading my wetness all around before swiping his tongue on it. My legs start to quiver as he fingers me, licks me, tastes me, saying: "Oh, Baby, you're so wet for me." He doesn't even wait long enough for me to come. He just kneels on the bed again and strokes his sheathed dick with wet fingers, his brown eyes getting darker as he towers over me.
Then he positions himself on top of me, rubbing his hard-on against my hole. He licks his lips and kisses my neck again before penetrating me. I close my eyes in pain, he feels bigger than ever before. Mark groans in pleasure as he buries his length deep inside me, breath burning on my neck, eyes closed in concentration, hands gripping the dark blue sheets underneath us.
I try to reach out to him with bound hands when he straightens his back to thrust in and out of me, my fingers touching his face. He smiles and kisses the tips of my fingers gently before taking my wrists and pinning them on top of my head aggressively. He ruts into me harder, his grip on my wrist getting tighter as I try to angle myself better so he'd hit me at just the right place. I arch my back when he hits my g-spot, close my eyes the more he reaches deeper, listen to his labored breathing and intermittent groans. The more sounds he produce, the closer I get to falling. "Are you coming?" He asks, to which I desperately nod. "You haven't asked me for permission yet..." He whispers, voice dropping low as he leans closer to me, his thrusts getting slower and harder.
How the fuck am I supposed to ask permission when I have a gag?! I try to plead with my eyes, try to break away from his restraint, try to make frustrated muffled moans. He grins devilishly in response, baring canine teeth that frighten me all the more. "That's not gonna work on me, Baby..." He continues to thrust, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I try to scream, tears finally falling from the sides of my eyes. His breathing steadies and his face registers a look of concern when he sees me cry. "Do you want to stop?" He asks. I nod once, trying my best to breathe easy through my nose.
Mark pulls out of me and assists me as I attempt to get up from my position, wrists still bound, body aching with the abuse and the sudden deprivation. He helps me sit up, wipes my tears with the back of his hand, fixes my hair, and kisses my sweat-laden forehead. "Are you okay, Baby?" He asks, his voice like honey. I nod slowly, willing my heart to slow down. "Do you want more?" I nod again eagerly, hoping to get release sooner. He smiles at me, fingers brushing my face before he tilts my chin upwards so my teary eyes could meet his. "I'll take off your gag if you let me fuck your pretty mouth..."
One sentence. One fucking sentence.
How on earth he manages to reduce me to a writhing, moaning, wanting mess in just one sentence, I still don't know.
He guides me to the foot of the bed and stands in front of me, his eyes watching my every movement, his smirk ever present. My stupid, crazy heart starts beating wildly again as I sit with my ass on my heels, hands folded on my lap like an obedient little girl. If a stranger sees us from this vantage point, they'd think I'm the younger one.
Mark gently takes my gag off, flings it somewhere behind him, and kisses me deeply, his tongue wetting my dried out lips. He sucks on my tongue for a bit and tugs at my hair before kissing my neck again. I whimper, bound hands touching his chest, his abs, every cut of his muscle that's often hidden from the public by his huge shirts and long sleeves. He straightens up and brings his cock up to my mouth. "Open wide, Baby Girl..."My jaw hurts after being gagged for what feels like an eternity but I let them unhinge again as I open my mouth for him, lowering my head to take him in. "Aaaahhh... Oh baby, yes...
Take it all in..." He pushes my head down, using my ponytail as leverage. I hollow my cheeks for him, letting his girth pass through my plump lips. The longer I please him, the further I get from being my sane self. Mark's moans get longer every time I deep-throat him. His ragged breaths, his tight grip on my hair, his dark, scintillating gaze, everything about him is taking my mind to all the unknown places. "Baby I think I'm coming..." He says through gritted teeth. "Do you want to come with me?"
I take his pulsing cock out of my mouth. "Yes, Daddy, please..."
"Turn around." He says, positioning himself behind me. Smack! I feel the unmistakable sting on my ass. He has a way of grabbing and slapping that almost always leaves me dizzy. He enters me again, this time sloppier and harder and faster, his fingers digging deep into the flesh of my bottom.
Smack! Smack!
"Ow, fuck. Mark!"
"Mark? Really?!" Smack!
"Sorry Daddy..."
"Harder?"
"Yes Daddy..." I say, biting my lower lip to prevent myself from saying that louder than necessary. My mind strays to Jackson and his sudden appearance a while ago. I wonder what he saw and what he thought and if he's hearing us from the other side of the wall. Smack!
"Mmmh... Baby Girl, you're getting tighter..."
"Daddy please..." I am a whimpering mess as I try to shake Jackson's image from my head and focus on the sensation of Mark pistoning in and out of me. My breasts are bouncing as he pounds me from behind, and I'm fisting the sheets with eyes screwed shut in controlled pleasure.
"Come with me, Love." He finally growls in between gritted teeth as he leans closer to me.
Just like that, I feel my knees giving out, my whole body melting, all my senses numbing as darkness enveloped me. I don't even realize how loudly I'm screaming until Mark puts his hand on my mouth, and I'm reduced to hearing nothing but his ragged breathing in my ear. He thrusts a few more times before collapsing after a long, low groan.
Then there's another groan... But based on the fucked out look on Mark's face when he rolls on the bed beside me, I'm pretty sure it isn't coming from him. His eyes suddenly flutter open when we hear sounds of chatter coming from outside, then sounds of laughter, and then the sound of a closing door..
It took me a year to realize that doors could talk after all.