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On Air


A story about his boy and his guitar.

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Track #1 Enchanted [M]

Mark sat at the counter, watching the whiskey in his glass swirl around. He knew he shouldn’t be drinking considering he was playing a gig tonight but his sensibility flew out the window as soon as he spotted his ex-girlfriend from three months ago, enter the pub.

The same conniving ex-girlfriend who didn’t support his pursuit of music. The same ex-girlfriend who broke up with him and told him that he wouldn’t amount to anything. The same ex-girlfriend who had been to his shows every single week with her new boy toy, just to spite him.

He scoffed and downed the rest of his drink before asking the bartender for another.

“No, can do man,” Yugyeom told him. “Jackson’s cut you off until the gig is finished.”

“Listen,” Mark practically pleaded. “I am too sober to play these love songs with that bitch in the crowd. Just one more, please?”

Understanding his friend’s predicament, Yugyeom sighed before pouring him another glass. “Don’t tell Jackson,” he warned. “And take it to the back with you. The show starts in five minutes.”

Smiling as Yugyeom handed him the glass, Mark thanked him before swiveling out of his chair to head to the dressing room. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been aware of his surroundings, bumping into you as he stood, sloshing his and your drink down the front of your top.

Staring at your top, he was livid that his drink was now on you and not in his glass. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself down but you were the last straw and he lost it. Well, that was until he looked up at your beautiful face, with your doe eyes and adorable pouty lips.

Just one look at you and Mark forgot everything that had been worrying him. He was sure he had forgotten his own name. Your beauty completely swept away everything he had ever known about anything, leaving his mind completely blank.

You cleared your throat, trying to garner the attention of the guy whose drink you were now wearing. Staring at you instead of helping, you rolled your eyes and asked him for some napkins as gently as you could.

“Oh my God,” Mark said, finally snapping out of the trance you’ve put on him and turned to reach over the counter for some napkins to hand to you. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“That’s okay,” you sighed as you accepted the napkins from him. “To be honest, I wasn’t looking where I was going either. So, this is probably more my fault than yours. That’s why my top is ruined while yours is completely dry.”

“Well, this would be the best thing to happen to me in weeks,” Mark laughed dryly but shut up when you raised your brow at him. You shoved the napkins back to him, muttering about going back home to get changed and missing half of the show. He came up with a brilliant plan to solve your problems.

Grabbing your hand, he lead you through the crowd and toward the general area of the dressing rooms. Mark didn’t realise that this was an unusual behaviour so you pulled your hand back and halted him in his tracks.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I am so sorry,” Mark blushed after realising his mistake. “I have an extra shirt in my bag because I— umm, I work here. I was going to offer it to you to wear so that you don’t have to miss the show, because it would be a damn shame if you did.”

You were skeptical about the offer and he could see that. He couldn’t blame you after all, not after the way he’d behaved. Offering another solution, he informed you that he would go and grab his shirt and meet you at the bar, which you accepted.

Mark came back and handed you a black, long sleeve polo shirt that’s littered with white stars. “I’m sorry, this is all I have.”

You smiled at him as you reached for the shirt, “this is perfect.”

After handing him your purse and turning towards the counter, you put on his shirt. You did all the buttons sans the first two, before pulling your arms out of the sleeves again. You saw Mark raise his brow curiously and you bit your bottom lip as you quickly shrugged out of your ruined top, pulling it out through the top and placing it on the counter.

Shoving your arms back in, you then grabbed the hem of his shirt and tucked it into your jeans. Turning back to him, you reached out for your purse and slung it back on your shoulder. “Thanks,” you smirked at him.

Mark smiled, wanting to keep talking to you but Yugyeom interrupted to inform him that he needed to get to work. You excused yourself before heading over to where your friends were waiting.

“Give her a drink,” Mark instructed Yugyeom before leaving. “I spilled hers. Tell her to wait for me at the bar.”

Reaching your friends who threw quizzical looks at the new shirt you were sporting, you promised to tell them the story once the band finished playing. That was why you were all there in the pub in the first place since the lead singer was your friend Aia’s new boyfriend. Jaebeom was a sweet guy and you couldn’t wait to show him your support.

Just as Jackson — the owner of the pub and your next door neighbour — introduced the band, someone tapped you on the shoulder. You recognised the man standing there as the bartender and he handed you a drink. Telling him you didn’t order one, he merely stated that it was courtesy of the guitarist who requested that you meet him at the bar after the show. Now, you really had to pay attention.

The band members went on stage with their backs to the crowd as they made their way to their positions and their instruments. You kept your eyes trained on the elegant white electric guitar and spotted the member reach for it and slung the strap over his head. Sipping your drink as the moment of truth arrived, you almost choked when the man revealed himself.

The guitarist was none other than the guy who owned the shirt that you were currently wearing. The band introduced themselves one by one and you found out his name. Mark.

Mark winked at you and none of your friends missed it, throwing more questioning looks your way — and suddenly, the night just got a little bit more interesting.

So interesting, that you found your lips attached to his, hands roaming your body, leaving no skin untouched as you both crossed the threshold of your apartment. Pulling away for air, you walked backwards into your home, trying to get a good look at him.

Mark’s breath is ragged and he ran his hands through his tousled hair as he wondered how he got so lucky that you were the one that he bumped into tonight out of all the women in the pub. The way you approached him tonight after his set had him reeling, not quite believing how well you both hit it off. He couldn’t believe that he was here and that you were real.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Mark declared breathily before walking over to you, placing his hands on your hips as he backed you into the nearest wall. Running your hands up his torso, you settled them around his neck and pulled him in for a searing kiss.

Mark groaned, shoving you hard against the wall and you moaned. Using this opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth, he lodged his leg in between yours, sliding up to press against your core; the feeling of your panties and the denim from the material of both of your jeans rubbing deliciously against it.

Gasping for air, he kissed down your chin, gliding his lips along your jaw and further down where your neck met your shoulder. “My shirt looks so fucking good on you,” he breathed against your skin before lavishing it with his tongue. “But, I bet it would look better off of you.”

Your smart retort found itself stuck in your throat when Mark began to suck on your skin. You moaned again and it went straight to his dick; Mark was so close to losing his will to be patient. Lifting his hands to unbutton your shirt, you swirled your hips against his kneecap for more friction. Growling at your actions, he lost his patience and ripped his shirt off of you, buttons flying everywhere and landing on the floor — your bra following soon after.

Arching your back to press your chest further into his palms, you cupped his face that was ready to descend on them and pulled it up to face you. “Take me to bed,” you commanded him before crashing your lips into his.

Grabbing you behind your legs, Mark lifted you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. You pulled away momentarily to point him towards your bedroom before you descended down his neck, marking him everywhere your mouth could reach.

“Is it weird to you how right this feels?” Mark practically moaned out as he shut the door of your room and pushed you up against it. “We’ve just met but this feels… real.”

“Definitely unusual but not weird,” you answered, detaching yourself from his neck, your hands caressing the hair by his nape. “Most definitely real. I almost can’t believe it.”

Mark tossed you on the bed and you landed in a fit of giggles, only stopping when you noticed the hungry look in his eyes. Scooting nervously away, you didn’t get very far when he caught your ankle and used it to pull you back towards him.

Hovering over you, he gently caressed your cheek, a stark contrast to the way his hips were grinding against your core. “Are you sure about this?” Mark asked gently, the softness of his gaze surprising you. “I don’t want you to do anything—”

Cupping his face, you brought him in for a languid kiss that soon turned rougher and hungrier. You pulled away quickly, moaning out a breathy yes to his question. Mark cursed before he hastily pulled off all the clothing left on your bodies, diving over you to connect your lips again.

“I hope you’re ready,” he whispered against your ear, before he licks the shell of it. “Because you’re in for a long night.”

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