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Fandom: NCT 127
Pairings: Mark/Taeyong, Mark/Jungwoo, Jungwoo/Johnny, Jungwoo/Lucas
Rating: R
Summary: In which Mark is the son of a drug lord and has to (begrudgingly) take over the “family business” after his father’s untimely death.

This might go without saying but dragging a body around is a lot harder than it looks.

The closest would be a sack of rice, but rice didn’t have bones that cracked or cold flesh or was once a functioning member of society that probably had a family and responsibilities. So yeah, nothing like rice. Fuck, why couldn’t he just be dragging a sack of rice?

Mark was figuring this out for the first time in his 20 years of existence. When Jungwoo laid the body on the ground, Mark thought he’d get a head start by going for the feet, picking one up and tugging with all of his strength only to fall back on his ass with a shoe in his hands. He tried slipping it back on the corpse until Jungwoo snatched it from him, throwing both it in the trunk and Mark a look of pure, unadulterated judgement.

“What?” Jungwoo, prodded. “Because his foot might get cold?”

“I don’t fucking know!” Mark hissed back, looking over his shoulder and spotting nothing but trees in the dead of night. “I’ve never… I’ve never done—“

“I know.” Jungwoo stepped over the body to get to Mark, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Look, we don’t have to do this? Let’s call Taeyong hyung.”

“No,” Mark protested instantly. He took a glance at the body on the forest floor, dirtied by gunk and leaves, head turned away from them. “Taeyong hyung already thinks I’m weak.”

“Mark,” Jungwoo bent his knees slightly so that they were at eye level and that poked at Mark’s ego. “I love you but you are weak.” And then pushed his ego completely off the cliff. “It’s okay? Just because your dad did this doesn’t mean that you have to be cut out for it.” And his ego just kept rolling and rolling and rolling…

Mark preferred to stare at the body instead of Jungwoo. At least the dead body didn’t see Mark as the kind of kid that forced himself into shoes that would always be too big. In fact, he’d rather have a conversation with it, with anything that didn’t look at him the way Jungwoo was. It was humiliating. He shrugged his hand off.

“Can we just do this?”


“Come on, I wanna go home.”

“Mark,” Jungwoo tried to pull him back in but Mark took his hand away from his grasp, rolling his eyes as he stood over the body again, by the feet. “Dude, come on.”

“No, it’s fine. You think I’m weak and that I’ll never meet up to anyone’s expectations. It’s cool, man. Come on, let’s drag this fucking thing.”

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