Mark hadn't slept a single minute.
The night dragged on, slow and torturous, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, his thoughts churning restlessly. Sleep refused to come—how could it, when the weight of David's fury and disappointment hung so heavily over him?
He wasn't ready to face him.
Not yet.
Worse still, guilt gnawed at him for letting Dnie take the fall. David would surely blame her, and she hadn't deserved it—not completely. Mark turned his face into the pillow and whispered into the silence, "It's okay, Mark… It's okay."
But it wasn't.
A familiar sound pierced the stillness of early morning—the low, distinct rumble of David's car pulling into the driveway. Mark's breath caught in his chest. He knew that sound better than he cared to admit.
They were back.
Without thinking, he pushed off the blankets and hurried into the bathroom. The water in the shower was cold, but it jolted him awake, masking the panic bubbling just beneath his skin.
Downstairs, David stepped into the dining room, his presence cutting through the air like a blade. Dnie sat at the table, halfway through her breakfast. One of the maids was just about to take a tray upstairs.
David's eyes flicked to the tray.
"Is that Mark's breakfast?" he asked, his voice quiet but firm.
The maid straightened nervously. "Yes, sir."
"Give it to me," David said, reaching for the tray.
Before the maid could respond, Dnie stood abruptly.
"Oh—Brother, you're back," she greeted, trying to sound casual.
David turned toward her, expression hard. "Don't even dare utter a word," he warned, voice laced with steel. "I'm coming back to you."
Dnie froze.
David turned to head upstairs, but her voice stopped him just as he reached the stairs.
"I bet Mark regrets everything already," she said quietly. "He probably didn't sleep at all last night. We're both ready for whatever punishment you decide, but... please, don't take it all out on him."
She didn't cry. She didn't beg. But the pleading in her voice was enough to make the air tremble.
David said nothing. His grip tightened slightly on the tray, but he didn't look back.
Without a word, he climbed the stairs.
There was a single knock at the door—sharp, familiar.
Before Mark could respond, David entered, as he always did, uninvited and unhesitating.
Mark had just stepped out of the shower, a towel hanging low on his waist, water still dripping from his hair. The moment his eyes met David's, it felt like lightning split through the room. His heart slammed against his ribs, panic rising. If he could vanish right then, he would have.
David said nothing.
He walked over to the chair near the window and sat down, his gaze never leaving Mark. Silent. Still. Watching.
Mark's hands trembled slightly as he dressed, the silence more terrifying than any shouting. David rarely spoke more than necessary, but this kind of quiet—this tense, unreadable silence—was something else entirely.
Finally, clothed but still unsettled, Mark swallowed and forced out a greeting.
"David... you're back. How was your trip?"
David's voice cut through the air like a blade. "You care about my trip now?"
Mark flinched. "I—I'm sorry. About yesterday. I—"
Before he could finish, David was on his feet.
And then he kissed him.
Without warning, without hesitation.
Mark's breath caught as David's lips claimed his. It wasn't punishment. It wasn't force. It was desperate and searching, like David needed reassurance just as much as Mark needed forgiveness. They kissed for long, quiet seconds, until David finally pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Are you okay?" David murmured into his ear.
Mark blinked, stunned. He'd expected anger—rage even—but not this. Not gentleness.
David pulled back just enough to look at him. "Why don't you ever listen to me, Mark? Why?"
He ran his hands over Mark's arms and shoulders, checking him. "Did you get hurt? Are you injured?"
"I'm fine," Mark whispered.
David cupped his face, his eyes filled with something too complex to name. "Please, for once… trust me. It's not safe out there for you."
Mark wanted to ask why, to push for answers—but instead, he smiled faintly and let the moment linger.
"I brought your breakfast," David added, walking back toward the tray he had carried in.
"You… what?" Mark blinked. "You brought my food? Aren't you angry with me?"
David gave a low sigh. "No. I'm just glad you and Dnie are safe. I spent all night worrying for nothing."
He turned, eyes narrowing playfully. "Unless… are you trying to make me angry now?"
Mark smirked. "No, sir."
"Good. Then come eat your breakfast."
Mark pouted. "I don't want this for breakfast."
David raised a brow. "What do you want then? I'll have the maid make it."
Mark stepped closer, his voice low, teasing. "It's you I want."
David gave a small smile. "You sure about that?"
"Yes," Mark breathed. "I want you."
"Eat your breakfast first."
"No," Mark said, inching even closer. "You're trying to escape with that excuse."
"Mark," David said with a tilt of his head, "you should know me better than that."
Mark gave a dramatic sigh and slumped into the chair, sulking as he picked up a piece of toast.
David chuckled softly. "Good boy. I'll be back to serve you again."
As David descended the stairs, his expression unreadable, Dnie was already waiting for him at the base. She stepped forward quickly, her eyes searching his face for any trace of forgiveness.
"Brother," she said with a hopeful smile, "you took a while. I guess… you've forgiven both of us?"
David didn't answer right away.
Just as he parted his lips to speak, Dnie rushed forward and threw her arms around him. "Please trust me, this won't happen again," she promised, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "I swear. You don't have to worry about us anymore."
David looked down at her, arms still at his sides. After a long pause, he exhaled slowly.
"It better not happen again," he said quietly, then added, "That reminds me..."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing.
"When exactly did you say you arrived back in the city?"
The color drained from Dnie's face.
There was a beat of silence, and then she took one quick step back.
"Uh-oh."
And with that, she bolted, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as she ran for her life.
David sighed, rubbing his temple. "That girl," he muttered under his breath, but a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned and walked toward his study.
As he walked back toward his study, footsteps slow and thoughtful, his mind wandered not to Dnie's antics, but to the boy upstairs who had just confessed he wanted him.
He ran a hand through his hair, his lips twitching with something between amusement and warning.
"Mark says he wants me…"
His voice was barely audible, lost to the empty corridor.
"But does he even know what that means? Can he really handle the kind of fire I carry?"
A shadow crossed his gaze, and he pushed the door open without another word.