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mysweetomegamark · 10 months

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count your blessings (and your days) MarkJae

4,064 Words

{Power Bottom Mark, Top Jaehyun}

Mark knows they aren’t being good kings.

He can see it in the way the servants look at him and at his husband, listens to their not-so-quiet whispers when they think Mark can’t hear it. They’ve never been good people— not since he and Jaehyun usurped the throne and claimed it for themselves. Not since Jaehyun planted himself on the royal seat and announced that he’s now their new monarch, placing the crown adorned with bloodied gemstones atop Mark’s head and declaring him as their other king.

They aren’t good kings, as far as the shorter knows.

It doesn’t stop Mark from brushing against his Jaehyun's fingers as they pass by each other in the hallway, though. Jaehyun shoots him a smirk through the black crown on his head. The red jewels that adorn it wink under the jeweled chandeliers.

Jaehyun looks the part of a tyrant king down to the letter, but it does not stop Mark from shivering in delight as they part ways. One of Mark’s people in his entourage never stops chattering about the agenda for the day.

Mark is ethereal, a cloud.

Of course, his choice of wardrobe was intentional. His royal blue robes take up space, flow like a great river that serves as a warning to people— to not touch, lest they get swept away. It’s as if he’s floating along the carpet, the soft silk drifting behind him. Mark's crown shines, a brilliant gold inlaid with light blue and white jewels. Even so, he does not look like a king. No matter how many rings he wears on his fingers, how many times he places small dripping chains on his earlobes, he is a cloud.

Then Mark reaches the throne room and bows slightly towards his husband, his beloved other king. Jaehyun speaks like his voice is thunder. The matte black crown on Jaehyun’s head stretches with points akin to lightning bolts. Everything about him is sharp— his gaze, his jawline, the pearl necklaces that adorn his neck and the gold pieces that pierce his ears, the black tunic and coat that hugs Jaehyun’s body like a second skin. The man looks like a king, through and through. He is electric, threatening to shock anyone should they get too close.

“My love,” Jaehyun purrs, and Mark can’t help but smile and shudder in glee. Mark makes his way up the platform, lets his hands run across a mountain of gold that lays in between their cathedrae, and sits in the throne beside his husband. They both observe the room as their servants bustle about, and Mark does well to ignore the side-eyes their attendants throw at them and the whispers they share into each other’s ears. Their loyal black leopard, which Jaehyun had affectionately named Minhyung, sits towards the side, in a corner of the room; the catamount is always watching, always guarding.

On their thrones, the two kings become a storm.

“I would assume that the meeting with the Huangs went well?” Jaehyun hums out, playing with a sapphire circlet on Mark’s finger. Jaehyun could have very easily gotten a coin from the pile of gold that surrounds their thrones, but he opts to instead play with the rings that decorate Mark’s hands. “What did they want?”

“What they’ve been requesting for the past three months or so,” Mark mumbles.“They want their war prisoners back.”

“What did you tell them?”

“They would need to surrender a part of their forestland before we can even consider giving their people back,” Mark hears his Jaehyun's chest rumble with satisfaction. “It would be a waste to give up such good slaves.”

"Ha!" Jaehyun snorts. "You are quite right, my love. You are absolutely dashing when you negotiate,” Jaehyun continues. And he is so fond, so enamoured with Mark. “An absolute darling.”

“Mhm,” Mark leans in for a chaste kiss, and giggles when Jaehyun chases after him for yet another one. “Not in front of the people, Your Grace.”

“Shall I tell them to go?” Jaehyun’s eyes blaze with passion. It makes Mark's stomach swirl with want. “I can order for them to leave.”

“Right now? Right here? Why not in our bed tonight, where it’s comfortable?”

“But my king,” Jaehyun pouts, so unlike him. The whispers never stop, and Jaehyun goes on and presents his case, “Why not here? Why not now?”

“Is that your final argument? Are you certain, your majesty?” Mark rolls his eyes, but he finds himself standing up to sit on Jaehyun’s lap, facing him. They’re both shameless— why wouldn’t they be? They are kings.

Jaehyun grins, playing with a rounded-off edge of his lover’s crown. Mark leans in, purrs in satisfaction when Jaehyun’s voice booms throughout the room, “All of you, leave at once. No one comes in unless there is an emergency. A foot steps past, and I’ll personally slice it off. Understood?”

No one speaks, but the attendants all shiver. They bow, scurrying out the entryway like rats. Jaehyun’s order would cause such a hassle— the servants would have to go all the way to the backdoors in order to get to the other areas of the palace, the royal entourages would have to mingle and grant audiences outside, but the kings don’t care.

They aren’t good rulers, after all.

“Minhyung, be a dear and guard the door, will you?” Jaehyun calls sweetly. The panther yawns, stretching. “Feel free to feast on whoever tries to come through.”

Mark watches their faithful pet obey and slink away, but he’s interrupted by a tug on his chin and lips roughly crashing onto his. Mark moans as he feels a hand tug on his hair and mess it up. His crown is knocked to a weird angle. “J-Jaehyun.”

“May I?” Fingers tug insistently at the shorter’s robe. Mark takes the initiative and removes it, letting it flutter towards the steps and revealing a rather simple tunic and pair of pants. Jaehyun licks his lips, lets his hands dive under the soft silk shirt and explore. Jaehyun’s voice is rough as he leans in close to mumble into Mark's ear, “So beautiful, my love.”

“My king,” Mark sighs in pleasure as he feels lips on his neck, feels fingers trace the stylized royal crest on his otherwise plain tunic, above his heart. The emblem proudly shows off an intricate 'L-J'— Lee-Jung, the kings that could rival a hurricane. Jaehyun traces it with his fingertips revelently. “Your Excellency, would you be so kind as to remove your—”

Jaehyun wastes no time to strip himself of his tight jacket, furiously unbuttoning his shirt to combat the heat of their skin. His hands grip Mark’s waist tight as the latter leans in, peppering kisses along the Jaehyun's bare chest.

“How risqué of you,” Jaehyun murmurs, sucking a breath as his husband’s shirt reveals slightly tanned skin. There are bruises, here and there; how else would Jaehyun claim him? “Where did my lily-white Mark go?”

“Do you not like this?” Mark peers through his lashes, smiling softly. It’s adorable, Jaehyun thinks, watching how his Mark's eyes flutter. “Who I am, now?”

“I love it,” Jaehyun giggles, pulling his husband close by the nape and into another searing kiss. Hands tug shirts out of the way, nails slightly drag across skin and leave pink lines. “I love you.”

“I know you do,” Mark chuckles, his fingers pulling at his Jaehyun's trousers. “Off.”

“Yes, my king,” Jaehyun giggles, and Mark removes himself from his lover, just for a while, to wiggle his pants and braies down to nonchalantly kick it among the mountains of riches. Jaehyun lifts his hips, just enough to let his slacks and underwear bunch down mid-thigh— just enough to let his half-hard cock slap against his shirt. Jaehyun can’t help but smirk. “Demanding. I like that.”

“Oh, be quiet you,” Mark snips, laughing under his breath. He slowly strokes Jaehyun to full hardness, biting his lip.

"You are making that face again."

"What face?"

"That particular face when you want me inside you already." Jaehyun simpers, spitting into his hand. He moves Mark's hand away to lubricate himself with his saliva. It’s so unlike them, to use distasteful methods to get what they want, but they don’t care one bit— why would they? They are kings.

Still, Mark scrunches his nose at the vulgarity of it. He mumbles under his breath, "Disgusting."

"It's not as if we have oil on hand," Jaehyun laughs, letting out little grunts as he somewhat fucks into his fist. It's still a little dry, but Jaehyun likes it that way. "And besides, you enjoy it when it gets messy. Don't you, my love?"

“Hmph,” Mark promptly leans in and shuts Jaehyun up with his lips, but the kiss quickly devolves into a clashing of teeth. Mark gasps when he feels canines sink into his lower lip, but Jaehyun just laughs into his mouth. “T-That hurt.”

Jaehyun murmurs, “Apologies, Your Grace,” as he swipes across his Mark's tongue with his own. He tugs Mark closer, but not quite on his lap yet. “I cannot help myself, not when I have such a pretty thing. A beautiful king.”

Jaehyun smiles, all dimples, but it fades when he watches how Mark makes himself at home on his lap and guides Jaehyun’s dick to kiss his rim. “Dear, is that wise? Mere saliva is not as effective as our oils—”

“Silence,” Mark orders, fixing his crown if only to look the part. “I would have no tolerance for someone to second-guess my actions.”

Jaehyun just barely manages to bite back a groan. He feels a rush of delight at the authoritative tone his husband uses, the manner in which the gold crown gleams against the chandelier lights, the way bejeweled rings bite into Jaehyun’s skin, and how Mark doesn’t hesitate to sheathe himself on his cock.

Mark is not a king— he is a cloud. But Jaehyun is a king, and he is lightning; together, they become a thunderstorm.

“By God's bones,” Jaehyun groans out, throwing his head back. His crown connects with the back of his throne and is knocked off, falling into the mounds of gold. His hands shoot out to grip at Mark's waist, threatening to imprint bruises from how hard he’s holding on. “Mark—”

“I’m still quite loose, from the night before,” Mark breathes out, grinding softly against Jaehyun's pelvis. Mark clenches around him, and the former relishes in the way his husband’s hips jerk up. “Do you like it, Your Majesty?”

Right now, Mark is the definition of cocky. He leans back, swivelling his ass with a lazy smirk on his face. His body heats up and flushes under the hooded eyes of his king. But Jaehyun has other plans.

“Don’t be so arrogant, my love,” Jaehyun says sweetly, thrusting up once— that’s all it takes for Mark’s fragile facade to fall apart; he shivers, finally letting himself shallowly bounce on his Jaehyuns lap. “Pride may be your downfall.”

“It could be yours as well, my king,” Mark pants out, letting himself fall forward. The crown is slipping off his head yet again, but he makes no move to fix it; he favors gripping the armrests of Jaehyun’s throne instead. “It would do you well to not let your guard down.”

“Are you threatening me?” Jaehyun rumbles out, finally moving. Moans fall from Mark’s lips, sweet as honey, and it does well to stop any response that he had originally thought of. “Is that an attempt to frighten me, darling?”

“Just trying to remind you, dearest,” Mark smiles, drunk off the decadence and power. His crown is lopsided, threatening to slide off as he continues to ride Jaehyun. “That we sit on bloodied thrones.”

All Jaehyun can do is laugh, letting his hands grab what they can; they’re greedy, and they decide to pull Mark closer a little closer. Their bodies are lined with a thin layer of sweat, and the slap of skin is unmistakable. Their groans and whimpers flood the room ever so slowly.

“Y-Your Majesties,” A timid voice calls out from the entrance to the throne hall. “We— argh!”

Mark gasps when he hears the retainer scream and Minhyung’s roar following it. He feels Jaehyun pull him against his chest, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as their loyal mountain lion makes quick work of the foolish servant.

“Ignore them, Your Grace,” Jaehyun murmurs melodiously, a complete contrast to the shrieks on the other side of the hall. Mark thinks, if he tries hard enough, he can make out the faint stench of blood. “Focus on me. I’m right here.”

“A-ah—” The shorter man gasps out when he feels the cock inside him hit his prostate, and all worries vanish in favor of chasing pleasure. Sparks dance across his body, making his thighs quiver as a hand runs through his hair and knocks his crown to the other side of his head. “My K-King—”

“Right there?” Jaehyun hums, angling his hips so that he can aim for Mark’s sweet spot over and over again. Mark scrambles, trying to figure out what to hold onto; his hands slide off the armrests, his shaky fingertips fly towards the piles of gold— which ends up scattering the coins everywhere— until finally he settles on flattening his palms against his husband’s chest. “Hmm?”

“Yes,” Mark sobs out, eyes fluttering shut. There’s no precision to his movements now, especially since Jaehyun had started to stroke him in time with his thrusts. The pain-laden shrieks from the other side of the room have all but ceased, and the symphony of moans picks up in earnest. “Yes. J-Jaehyun, I—”

They hear Minhyung purr, and there are wisps of whispers. But if the leopard is not hurting anyone, then it must mean that people are not trying to take a step inside; everyone else is too far away for the two kings to care about anything else. Not even the servant that had been mauled by their pet mountain lion.

“My love,” Jaehyun pants, letting his legs fall open more so that he can spread Mark’s legs in turn. The position has Mark choking on a groan, speeding up. “F-Fuck—”

“Such v-vulgarity, Your Excellency,” Mark giggles breathily through his moans. His shirt sticks to his skin, and he curses; he probably should have stripped it off, too. Oh well. “You are lucky that… that n-no one else is a-around.”

Jaehyun is cheeky. “Is my king losing his ability to speak?”

“God, Jaehyun, I’m c-close. Just… Just ruin m-me,” Mark pleads, letting his head loll and his hair bounce as he tries to ride his lover as fast as he can. His cock weeps with precome, threatening to spill over. Electricity dances between them, and it makes Mark’s stomach tingle with that familiar heat. “Ruin m-me, r-ruin me, r...ruin—”

“You cannot say that and expect me to not follow through,” Jaehyun growls, slamming his hips up. He doesn’t slow down or try to be gentle, not even when the younger wails and grips at his biceps. He mouths at Mark’s neck, leaving wet kisses. His thrusts are sloppy, and the hand stroking his lover’s cock is a blur. “Are you close, my sweet? Will you come for me?”

“Yes,” Mark feels tears cascade down his face. He feels the hair amidst his crown being pulled, and he’s being lifted up to meet Jaehyun’s gaze. The intensity that swirls in Jaehyun's eyes is so dark, so pitch-black makes Mark shiver. “Yes, p-please, I’m so— Jaehyun, I...”

“Of course. Y-yes, of course,” Jaehyun can only moan as he thrusts into his husband's tight heat. Mark clenches down on him like he doesn’t want to let him go, and Jaehyun can only chase his own high, the squelch of Mark's precum making the slide of his hand so easy. “Come whenever you’d like. For me, beloved. I’m right here.”

“I’m—!” Mark chokes on a whine. He stills, but Jaehyun just keeps thrusting in. Mark's voice catches on a gasp before he finally finds it; it breaks on the first syllable. “I-I’m coming! I’m g-going to—”

Mark’s mouth falls open, but no sound whatsoever escapes him. His eyes are squeezed shut and his brows are furrowed as ropes of cum spatters on top of Jaehyun’s stomach; Jaehyun licks his lips at the sight, milking Mark dry all the while.

“Just a little more. I’m almost done, darling, I promise,” Jaehyun softly murmurs into Mark's ear. The latter slumps into Jaehyun's embrace, letting himself be used. He doesn’t move even when Jaehyun's thrusts become hurried— a telltale sign. “So tight and warm for me, my beautiful king. So p-perfect. Ah, ah—”

Jaehyun bites into Mark's shoulder, but it doesn’t do much to hide the moan he lets out as he fills Mark with all he has. Mark whimpers through his haze, just a little overstimulated.

It’s when they’re both trying to catch their breath and Jaehun's thighs are shaking that he breathes out, “You’re a little heavy, Your Grace.”

“Hm, should have thought about that before taking me right here, then,” Mark chuckles. He kisses behind one of Jaehyun's red ears. It smells faintly of the luxurious oils that they bathe in; it helps distract him from the scent of blood, now that they’ve come down from the clouds of lust. “I, for one, am not complaining the slightest bit.”

“That’s because you’re the one on someone’s lap, Your Majesty,” Jaehyun coos, then his voice shifts back into rumbling thunder. It resonates throughout the empty throne room, and no doubt it reaches the people waiting outside. Minhyung yawns, job done, and sneaks back to his corner. “Clean up the insolent simpleton and dispose of them. Fools you are, just standing there! Now the blood will stain the carpets.”

“My love,” Mark suddenly mumbles into the crook of his Jaehyun's neck, gaining back neck attention. “Do you ever think about our old lives?”

“Are you getting sentimental after sex, dear?” Jaehyun giggles, but decides to indulge his husband. “I do, sometimes.”

Ah, yes. The past would always be a part of them— two masterminds, as fearsome as a monsoon, of a miscarried revolution. They had come from nothing, from the dirt of the crime-rampant streets, and risen from the ashes to inspire people and have them rise up against the cruel, greedy royals. The two leaders— the lovers that have lived tragic lives— gathered a significant number of rebels, all eager for change and to end the cycle of tyranny at last. People joined out of sympathy, out of anger; they just wanted the oppression to stop.

So, one night, they decided to stage a coup.

Oh, it almost failed, of course. The revolutionaries only had farming equipment or handmade weapons at their disposal, and if they were to be compared to the experienced and skilled palace soldiers… they didn’t stand a chance.

“But we did,” Jaehyun assures Mark, leaving a soft kiss atop his head— crown and all. He cuddles Mark closer; they like to stay together like this, for a while, in each other’s embrace. “We got out of it alive.”

They were the only ones who managed to live, having snuck inside the castle as the guards were dispatched to stop the band of angry peasants.Their shouts for freedom and for change echoed throughout the stone walls.

“I’m sorry,” Mark mumbles back. Guilt bubbles at the back of his throat and leaves a sour taste in his mouth. “It was because of my moment of hesitation that almost got us killed.”

It was Mark that had raised the knife, silver blade glinting in the moonlight. His hand was shaking as he looked down at the slumbering king and queen. He remembers whimpering like a coward, sweat dripping down his temple. The king was the one that had woken up first, by the noise caused by the riots outside.

The old king had shaken his wife awake, shouting. Mark had dropped the knife, letting it clatter to the floor; he was not a murderer, and he let the king and queen tumble out of bed to run out of the room. The both of them cradled their crown and tiara close, like it’s the one thing that they could really call theirs.

“It’s quite alright, my love,” Jaehyun cradles his Mark's face in his hands and showers kisses all over it as a form of reassurance. “I handled it, did I not?”

In the end, it was Jaehyun that snatched the dagger from the floor, chasing after the two royals like it was a hunt for game. Mark had struggled to catch up— the fighting outside the front of the palace, the lack of proper lighting, and his own emotions had disoriented him. His only clue were flashes of red hair, vibrant as the color of blood, through the castle windows and the silver moonlight. Mark thinks he heard the queen cry out, her voice like a wounded animal.

Gradually, the shouts of the peasants died down, and metal footsteps rang all around the castle. They had heard the queen scream, and were on alert.

“I’m still sorry,” Mark sniffles. “Things would have been easier if I just… if only I was brave enough to—”

He is silenced by a pair of lips. He didn’t realize he was crying until he tasted salty tears and felt fingers wipe them away.

“You were scared, darling. It’s okay to be scared,” Jaehyun whispers, tender. Even though he’s still inside of Mark, the moment they share is personal and deep. “We are here now. We are kings now.”

Mark remembers rushing into the throne hall to find Jaehyun standing over the bodies of the king and queen. The older was covered in blood and, when he looked towards Mark, his eyes sent shivers down Mark’s spine; the look in Jaehyun’s eyes was positively feral and adrenaline-laced. The way Mark had approached his beloved was akin to a scared lamb.

Soldiers ran in, but they were much too late. They were paralyzed, at a loss of what to do; the guards were supposed to be well-trained, but… their masters are dead. They couldn’t do anything but watch as Jaehyun placed himself on the throne, testing it out, before putting the king’s crown on his Mark's head.

Then the castle became a palace, and one king became two.

“What if we end up like them?” Mark mumbles nuzzling Jaehyun’s hand. “Everyone knows that we have blood on our hands. What if we end up dead?”

What if they’re the ones who'll have their bodies strewn across the steps below their thrones, their crowns wrenched away?

What if two people, as great as an earthquake, decide to take a page from Mark and Jaehyun’s book and take the throne for themselves? What would happen if another pair, as intense as raging fires, decide to burn down everything they knew and loved?

Will there be change, then?

“I don’t think so,” Jaehyun’s voice, as soothing as it is, snaps Mark out of his reverie. “That is very unlikely to happen. We rule with iron fists. No one would dare.”

That’s what the former king and queen said as well, Mark tells himself as he cuddles closer, before their blood colored their precious jewels red.

“I will ask the servants to run a bath,” Mark mumbles, finally getting out of his husband’s lap. He bites his lip as he lets Jaehyun’s cock slip out, as cum drips down his thighs. “And perhaps take a little walk in the garden.”

Mark fishes around the gold for his clothes and, after a moment’s consideration, Jaehyun’s crown. He lets his fingers run along the matte black before setting it on Jaehyun's head. Mark smiles, “My king.”

“My king,” Jaehyun echoes with a grin, taking Mark’s hand and bringing it to his lips. “Now put on your bottoms, you silly thing.”

“I am, I am,” Mark laughs. His clothes are wrinkled but, at the very least, he’s relatively decent for the palace. He swoops in for a kiss, soft and sweet. “I love you.”

“And I you,” Jaehyun’s smile is evident even as their lips dance against each other slowly.

Mark thinks he’ll try to wear a string of pearls around his neck, too. Just to see what it’s like.

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