Chapter Text
“Johnny, I hear a distinct lack of typing over there. Which means you are definitely not working on the edits I sent you two whole weeks ago!” Doyoung practically yells from Johnny’s expensive leather armchair in his living room, unpausing his documentary and turning back towards the tv with a huff.
Johnny shakes his head, opening his laptop again and putting his phone down. He definitely wasn’t working on the edits, as Doyoung suspected, but he also definitely wasn’t watching every one of Mark’s TikTok videos from a burner account. He was super careful not to interact with any of them and felt red hot shame burning in his cheeks for even knowing the account exists.
He hadn’t been looking for it but Mark’s little rant about his characters had prompted him to redownload the app and check to see what fans had been saying since he kept pushing back the release of the next book of the series. When his auburn haired cutie librarian had popped up on his feed with round wire glasses and a small bedroom filled with books and fairy lights and trinket shelves, Johnny couldn’t help himself.
“If I’m going to finish the edits, I need caffeine. Can I treat you to matcha and swing by the library? Then I promise to come right home and work on this. I’ll work on it all night.” Johnny pleads, closing the laptop screen again. He even drops to his knees, begging from his spot across the room.
He can feel Doyoung roll his eyes, even with his back turned, but smiles when he sees him turn the tv off and pull his bag strap onto his shoulder. Having your best friend as your editor had its pitfalls, but also its perks.
Almost an hour later, Johnny sets a large plastic cup on the circulation desk counter in front of a very sleepy Mark. He had spent the entire ride to the cafe and an additional twenty minutes in the store trying to decide what to get for him, especially since they hadn’t seen each other since their research date. Johnny had left in such a hurry and had a week of meetings that had prevented him from stopping by.
“My favorite cute librarian looks like he needs an afternoon pick me up,” Johnny chirps, making a big show of celebrating the perfect iced matcha latte with strawberry syrup that he has placed in front of Mark, waving his arms around behind the cup.
Mark looks up from the computer at the commotion, down to the cup, over to the large “WATER ONLY! NO OTHER DRINKS! ONLY WATER!” in red ink behind the desk and recalls the time Jisung tried to start drinking his protein shake behind the desk and Taeyong chased him to the staff room.
“Uh wow, thank you! I just…” Mark starts, eyes darting around the lobby and wondering if he can get away with drinking it without being caught. He still has a million questions about Johnny, about his career, about how the hell his favorite author lives in the same place as him - but all of them seem to have melted away the moment he was in front of him again.
“You hate it! I knew it! It’s the strawberry right?” Johnny sighs dramatically, flinging his arm onto the counter and digging his head into his shirt sleeve.
“No, no, no I don’t hate strawberry! I’m just not supposed-“
Just at the moment that Mark decided to give in and just have a sip of the drink, Johnny also reached out to pull it off the counter, causing their hands to collide and send the drink lid flying. They both watch in slow motion as bright green liquid sprays all over Mark’s light blue shirt and on the computer monitor. It barely misses Johnny, only getting on part of his arm that is nearest the cup. Mark has a look of horror on his face as Taeyong rounds the corner just in time to see the small spill.
“Just clean it up, pretend this never happened,” he says sternly, taking Mark’s spot at the counter as Mark darts around the desk, pulling Johnny by the arm to the staff room.
As they run away from the scene of the very green crime, Taeyong is greeting Doyoung but they are out of earshot to hear how disastrous that was about to be.
Mark is running a dishcloth under warm water while Johnny, ever distracting, stands with those damn arms crossed across that damn chest, pinching the bridge of his perfect nose in embarrassment.
“I’m so so sorry,” he starts, shaking his head and grabbing the wet cloth from Mark, dabbing it on the fabric gently.
“For the spill or for lying to me?” Mark says boldly, unsure where his confidence came from. He had spent every night since his discovery wondering how he was going to confront Johnny about it in a way where he could ensure he could kiss him again.
Johnny pauses the dabbing, not lifting his head up but simply smirking, gaze cast down. To be fair, Mark isn’t making eye contact with him either. He has his head turned fully to the right and his eyes half shut, a habit he can’t help himself from falling back into when he has to say something hard.
“So you know. I always knew my readers were smart,” he tells Mark, voice low despite them being the only two in the room. He drops the towel on the counter and turns Mark’s face toward him with a soft hand.
“I thought I was cute ,” Mark replies barely above a whisper, gulping once he gets the five words out.
“You are cute and smart,” Johnny replies, brushing his thumb against his cheek.
Mark can’t help but crack a smile at this before he narrows his eyes and bites down on his lip to prevent the grin from spreading.
“Don’t do that flirting thing right now, Mr. Suh…Helinathus…whatever,” he raises his voice slightly and his eyebrows go with it.
Johnny just smiles and leans down to close the gap between them, knowing there’s plenty of time for in depth conversations about all of this when they aren’t hiding in the back at Mark’s work. Mark let’s him kiss him because he’s so weak for this man already and secretly pleased with himself that he figured it out on his own and had the balls to confront Johnny about it. They are both kissing each other stupid before they can think through the repercussions.
“What time do you get off work today?” Johnny asks, pulling back from Mark’s spit slicked lips, panting as he presses their foreheads together.
“Uh…I have a few more hours,” Mark replies after pulling Johnny’s wrist into view and checking his watch.
“I’ll pick you up, just text me. I need you tonight,” Johnny breathes into Mark’s neck, kissing behind his ear. He slips his hand into Mark’s back pocket, pulls out his phone and quickly types his phone number in, calling himself. The end of his statement is gravelly and it makes Mark want to die.
Mark moans, leaning to give Johnny more access, hand palming Johnny over his pants. He smiles when he feels how hard he is from a few matcha-covered kisses.
“Okay but be gentle with me. I’ve read some of that shit you write - it defies the laws of physics and gravity!” Mark giggles, Johnny having found a ticklish spot at the tip of his ear.
They kiss for a few more seconds until a noise in the hallway startles them both and forces them apart. When they finally emerge, both blushing and Mark’s shirt not much better than before, they find Doyoung typing on Taeyong’s phone before shoving it back in his direction, looking exasperated.
“And what is this?” Johnny asks with a quirk of his brow, leaning an arm on Mark’s shoulder in amusement.
“Doyoung is a book editor! Isn’t that so cool? I managed to convince him to volunteer next month to speak to our young writers group about working in the industry,” Taeyong nods with a huge smile on his face, like he’s just solved all the world’s problems.
“Oh is he now?” Mark laughs, looking up at Johnny and taking this opportunity to jab him in the side with his elbow.
Johnny doubles over, Mark cackles, and Taeyong stands there looking confused.
“It’s the least I can do to support the community,” Doyoung states simply, looking up from typing on his phone for a moment before giving Johnny a wicked glare.
“They can learn what is like to work with frustrating authors who don’t get their edits in on time and how to prevent pissing off their editors in the future,” he continues, already turning to walk out the door, sucking down the last of his matcha lemonade as he leaves.
Johnny laughs and squeezes Mark’s hand in his as a goodbye, tipping his head at Taeyong before heading out the door.
“Alright, spill. The guy you’ve been pining over the entire time you’ve worked here seems to be head over heels for you and his best friend is just my type,” Taeyong grabs Mark by the elbow and steers him back behind the desk.
Just as Mark is unplugging the fan behind the desk and shutting down the computer for the evening, he sees Johnny’s tall frame appear outside the window, waving somewhat awkwardly at him and offering a half smile. Mark flips the “open” sign to “closed” and locks the door with the key danging off his keyring and follows him to an expensive sports car.
A short ride later (Mark couldn’t really tell you how long it took because of the level of nerves and arousal swirling in his system), Johnny is hastily typing in the keycode to his door and pushing Mark through it, hands already shoved up his still damp shirt. His mouth is on his neck again (no surprise there) and Mark squeals when he feels thumbs brush against his nipples.
“I-woah…this place is massive,” Mark moans out, eyes widening as he takes in the expansive entry way. They are tripping over each other to step out of their shoes while also try to keep their bodies connected. Johnny’s bag falls to the floor and he practically rips Mark’s tattered backpack off his arms and tosses it carelessly.
Mark moans when Johnny reaches his ear, sucking his lobe into his mouth and flicking it between his teeth with his tongue. Suddenly he’s ascending into outer space and they haven’t even gotten to the bedroom yet. To ground himself, he pulls his eyes open to look around again, admiring the large bookshelves covering the walls of the living room.
“I knew it would look like this, you nerd!” Mark exclaims, managing to break free of Johnny’s hold and to the bookshelf, running his fingers over the spines of books he had read hundreds of times and ones he had never even heard of.
Johnny’s behind him in an instant, pressing himself into Mark’s back, cock begging to be freed from his pants and making Mark’s gut stir with arousal. Mark instinctively drops his head to one side to give Johnny access while pulling a book from the shelf, pretending to be unbothered and read the back. It falls to the floor loudly when Johnny drags sharp teeth along Mark’s sensitive skin and finds himself pushed against the shelves and soft lips on his neck.
Mark finds a way to twist around, throwing his arms around Johnny’s strong shoulders and smirking up at him with a glint in his eye. Johnny doesn’t need much more instruction, scooping Mark up by his plump ass and carrying him from the living room to the long kitchen. Mark catches a glimpse of shiny espresso machines and shimmering bottles of Scotch and is suddenly parched (whether that’s from his long shift at the library or nerves, he would never admit).
“Mmmh wait wait, I need water first,” Mark chokes out and Johnny obliges, placing him on the counter like he would a bag of groceries.
Mark moans at the change in angle, tightening his ankles around Johnny’s back before he can pull back, kissing him deeply. When Johnny does pull away, he looks breathless and Mark swears he’s blushing.
Johnny returns with a bottle of water before Mark can comment on the expensive slab of granite his jeans are currently in contact with. He slides it in his back pocket and picks Mark back up again, getting a little handsy each time he has to readjust his grip.
When they make it to the bedroom, Mark is lightheaded and takes a few long gulps of water, placing the bottle on a dresser and turning to find a shirtless Johnny in front of him. He could die right there, on the spot. He’s so much hotter than he could have ever imagined (and imagined he did, a few times late at night with his hand shoved down his Spider-Man boxers). He has about 50 defined abs and the large ink on his shoulder expands onto his chest. A simple chain rests on his perfect collarbones and Mark is weak in the knees at all of it.
Johnny shakes his head at Mark’s ogling, hands falling to his belt buckle and slowly, tortuously unbuckles it. Mark tugs his bottom lip up into his teeth and blinks a few times so he doesn’t miss what is going to be revealed next.
Johnny definitely knows what he’s doing and he’s putting on a show. He pulls the belt out of each loop slowly, popping the last one and letting the belt fall to the floor heavily. He unbuttons and unzips his pants slowly, hissing as the zipper makes its way down his erection, dropping his head back dramatically. Mark rolls his eyes a little at this but can’t help but stifle a grin.
Soon he’s standing in front of Mark in just a pair of tight, black briefs and Mark’s mouth is watering. Before he can even remotely think about having some decency or self respect, he’s dropped to his knees, mouthing at the dark fabric. Johnny’s hands find Mark’s hair immediately, digging his nails into Mark’s scalp as he licks at him like a man starved.
“Fuck, Mark,” is all he can manage before a moan erupts from his throat.
Mark smiles to himself, proud of how affected he makes him, sliding still nervous hands up Johnny’s thick thighs to find the waistband of his briefs and pulling down hard. Johnny’s cock springs out like a comical animation and almost slaps Mark in the face. He blinks a few times and shakes his head lightly, resisting the urge to make a million comments on its length and girth.
“Oh baby,” Johnny sighs when Mark finally closes his soft mouth over the crown, letting his tongue lap up pre cum beading at the tip. Mark’s own cock stirs in his pants at the name, eyes starting to roll back in his head as he grips the back of Johnny’s thighs and takes him in his mouth. He moans around him for good measure, earning a tightening of grip in his hair and a growl from Johnny. Mark takes him deep a few times, bobbing up and down his length before messily pulling off and licking up the underside, covering him in spit. He digs his jagged, chewed on nails into Johnny’s skin and flicks a look up to gauge his reaction to the pain.
At this, Johnny yanks him up from the floor, crashing his mouth into Mark’s and ripping his pants and boxers down together at record speed. He’s pulling Mark on top of him on the bed seconds later, Mark quickly peeling off the matcha stained shirt and letting it fly across the room.
Mark’s panting heavily, chest heaving as he straddles Johnny, trying not to come at the feeling of their cocks rubbing against one another.
“Sorry…I just was close…” Johnny, seemingly speechless for the first time, is running his hands up and down Mark’s arms as if to calm himself down.
Mark takes pity on him and smiles, leaning down to press and tender but firm kiss to his lips before responding. He traces the chain laying perfectly on Johnny’s chest, feeling the cold metal under his fingertip.
“It’s okay, me too,” he says simply, pressing another, wetter kiss to Johnny’s expecting mouth.
Johnny’s hands find Mark’s hips and rub circles there, pushing his tongue into Mark’s mouth and moving his fingers at the same pace. Mark sighs into Johnny’s mouth, feigning innocence as he arches into Johnny’s embrace, digging his knees into the billion thread count duvet they were going to make a mess of. He presses his chest to Johnny’s, arching his back and widening his knees until Johnny gets the hint.
He feels the man’s massive hands slide to the globes of his ass, massaging there as he licks behind his teeth and Mark knows he’s leaking everywhere without even looking. Johnny’s finger is circling his hole moments later and Mark breaks from the kiss to clench his eyes and mouth shut at the sensation, hazy euphoria flooding his senses. Johnny fumbles in the drawer of the nightstand, long arm reaching without difficulty and swears under his breath when he only finds lube there. He warms some on his fingers before slowly opening Mark up and Mark ascends to another plane of existence at the feeling of Johnny’s fingers.
Mark is kneeling, propped up on his elbows and a pile of pillows when Johnny returns with a condom, having had to go to his no doubt luxurious spa bathroom to retrieve one. He slides it on and dribbles more lube onto his cock before lining himself up, placing a gentle hand on Mark’s lower back.
“You okay, Mark?” he asks softly, petting his soft skin with the patience of a saint.
Mark throws an evil grin over his shoulder and wiggles his hips dramatically at Johnny in reply, providing a “yes, baby ” when Johnny waits for a response. Johnny rolls his eyes and presses in slowly, giving Mark a few moments to adjust to his size before setting a slow pace.
Mark’s mind is swimming and unfortunately he can’t stop thinking about Johnny’s stupid books and those stupid sex scenes. He even lets out a nervous chuckle at one point that is quickly cut off by Johnny driving in at a different angle and pace. That grounds Mark immediately and he is pushing himself back to meet Johnny’s pace, letting out whimpers each time he hits just the right spot.
“I’m not going to last long baby, you’ve been driving me crazy all day. I almost had to do something about it earlier when I got home,” Johnny pants, finishing with a light bite on Mark’s shoulder.
“You have me, I’m yours eternal,” Mark whispers back, the few words he can muster in this moment. (Was that a line from the second book of the series when the protagonist and antagonist finally have freaky demon sex in the dungeon in the ruins of a castle? No…of course not…)
With a few more thrusts, Johnny is finishing in the condom, his groan quieter than Mark had expected but the grip on Mark’s hips is telling and bruising. Mark finishes with a few pumps from Johnny’s hand, crying out so loud he almost starts to cry with embarrassment. His loud moans were known to every previous roommate he ever had and most of his partners would slam a hand or pillow over his mouth.
Johnny did neither, stroking him through it and nibbling at his ear lobe, leaving kisses down his neck when Mark finally relaxed in his arms.
“You did not come from me repeating a line from your book,” Mark teases instantly turning over to lay on his back.
Johnny sits up, cock brushing against Mark’s and causing him to jump at the sensitivity. He has an amused but irritated look on his face.
“You are the one who said it! Freak!” Johnny taps his chest teasingly, resisting the urge to draw a finger through the cum on Mark’s stomach.
They both laugh heartily as Johnny helps peel Mark off the bed and guides him with a gentle hand to the bathroom. They spend an hour and an entire bottle of red wine in Johnny’s ridiculously large soaking tub filled with bubbles and fragrant oils and Johnny lets Mark ask him 10 questions (for now) about the series. Johnny works on some of the edits on his laptop once he’s sure Mark is sleeping soundly next to him, keeping his screen brightness on low and ignoring Doyoung’s angry emoji reaction when he finally texts him the link at 3:00AM.
Months later, Mark wakes slowly, eyes adjusting to the light peeking through the black out curtains they forgot to fully close the night before. He’s in Johnny’s giant, expensive bed, and Johnny is sleeping on his back, bare chest rising and falling in the golden morning sun. Mark watches him for a moment, before sighing lazily and curling up under his arm like he did most mornings when he slept over. He nuzzles into Johnny’s armpit, tickling him awake.
“Good morning, you annoying brat,” Johnny teases, trapping Mark’s head in his bicep, pretending he’s going to suffocate him. Mark giggles (like he normally does) and peppers Johnny’s arm with kisses in an apology.
“You’re so peaceful when you sleep, so unlike all the blood and lust in your stories,” Mark comments absently, tracing patterns on his chest.
“Oh wait, I’ll be right back,” Johnny slips out from the covers much to Mark’s chagrin, pulling on a pair of sweatpants on the way, hopping on one leg trying to get the second one in. Mark giggles a little at the sight of his lanky frame almost falling.
He returns before Mark can reach for his phone or doze off on the pile of fluffy pillows in between his head and the headboard. Johnny plops a stack of papers, binder clipped together in the upper left hand corner, onto the covers and gestures to it for him to pick up.
Mark cocks a quizzical brow and picks the stack up gingerly, blinking sleep from his eyes and knitting his brows together in confusion. It was too early for all this. He sits up anyway, because he could never resist Johnny.
“Is this? Wait…Johnny NO!” Mark screams, hands flying over his face and pushing the papers towards the edge of the bed.
“Babe, what?!” Johnny exclaims, reaching over Mark’s bare chest with his long arm to catch the stack of papers before they slid to the floor.
“If that is the next book, I don’t want to see it,” Mark whines through his fingers.
“And why is that?” Johnny asks, settling an arm around Mark’s shoulders, pulling him into his side and letting his head fall naturally onto Mark’s fluffy bedhead.
“I don’t want a sneak peek. I don’t want to read it partially finished. I want to read a plastic covered library copy, held for weeks or months until it’s my turn and it’s slid across the counter to me with a rubber band around it and receipt with my name on it on the front. I want to read the first few pages on the bus because I can’t even wait until I get home and then completely devour it in one sitting, without eating or drinking anything until I’m done.”
Mark pauses, having to inhale deeply. Somehow during his rambling speech he managed to drop his hands, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap, on the soft, white cotton bedding.
He sneaks a look at Johnny and finds an unreadable expression on his face but one that is laser focused on every word coming out of his mouth. Mark sighs before continuing.
“I want to read this book just like I first read your work. Before you. Before this. Because as wonderful as this is, I love these characters so much and I don’t want anything to change with how I experience them,” he finally finishes, mouth uncomfortably dry.
Johnny is quiet for a few seconds, blinking at Mark, speechless. He takes Mark’s face in his hands, pulling his lips to meet his. The kiss is warm and firm as he moves slowly, thumb caressing Mark’s cheek softly. Mark lets himself melt into the kiss, nerves fading away as he feels pleasure ripple under his skin, his cock stirring in his boxers despite the tenderness. Johnny pulls back, tugging Mark’s bottom lip in between his teeth gently before resting their foreheads together.
“I could write hundreds more books and never create a character like you,” he whispers, eyes swirling and almost teary.
“I wanted you to be the first to be able to read this because it is you that has given me the strength and inspiration to continue writing. Your love of my characters, the series, the fandom - everything you gushed about to me that first day at the library and in your videos. I couldn’t have done this without you. You were the best surprise to come into my life.”
Mark pulls back slightly, letting his head rest against the headboard, blush creeping high on his cheeks. All he can do is shake his head and lift his hands to hide in disbelief.
“You can’t say all that, man!” he cries, heart pounding so loud in his chest he’s sure Johnny can hear it.
Johnny takes his hands in his own and laughs, pulling Mark on top of him, lining them up so he can peck his neck gently, pulling their bodies firmly together. Mark giggles, playfully slapping at Johnny’s chest, putting up a very weak fight.
“And you can’t act like I’m some Nobel Prize winning author!” Johnny cackles back, licking a stripe up Mark’s neck, kissing the mole on his cheek as punctuation.
Mark squirms away till he’s sitting up, straddling Johnny and rests his hands on his chest, breathing heavy from the exertion.
“Maybe if there were some sort of sexy-vampire-romance-book Nobel Prize!” Mark says in a joking tone, tracing Johnny’s abs with a soft but intentional touch.
“Monster fucker…” Johnny mumbles, reaching up to sink his teeth into Mark’s pec.
Mark squeals, grinding his half-hard cock onto Johnny’s very full erection he can feel poking his ass through his sweats.
Johnny moans at the feeling, head falling back on pillows and hands finding Mark’s waist and squeezing there. Mark grinds down again for good measure, pushing his hand quickly into Johnny’s sweats.
Yeah, Mark thinks, he could get used to fucking the mysterious author of his favorite smutty book series. And maybe he could even get used to falling in love with him too. But hey, isn’t that what sequels are for?