Aouboom/ Characters (Short stories)

Mark me(Tanfang)

The moon was casting a soft glow on them as they stepped out of the cab. Tan was wasted as always, his arms draped on Fang's shoulder but he was facing the other way. Tan wasn't himself today. The usual loud laughter and nonsensical talks of how he loves Fang till the moon to the sun, out of galaxy and back- being dramatic about everything.

But not today. He is oddly quiet, he is not even holding him. Instead, he walked with his head down, a pout tugging at his lips, mumbling incomprehensibly under his breath.

Fang slowly walked them, quietly observing him and recalling their night Peem's house, everything was fine when they left but now the silence is sending him chills. Did he do something wrong? Fang drifted into webs of thoughts.

He snapped out of his thoughts when they reached their apartment door. Tan was still looking at the floor, he was a little tipsy but his body swayed side by side. Fang tightened his grip on his arms and asked "What's with you tonight?" he asked, unable to hold back any longer. "You're acting... weird."

Tan's pout deepened, and he slumped further against the wall, his shoulders hunched like a sulking child. "You don't love me anymore," he muttered, his words slurred but loud enough for Fang to hear.

Fang froze, his hand still on the doorknob. "What the hell are you talking about?"

A blush crept on Tan's face and he looked away. His face was still adorably pouty, and Fang sighed, attempting to nudge him forward. "Come on, Tan. You're already sulky and drunk—don't make this harder."

Fang was concerned but what Tan did next really surprised him. He pushed himself from the wall and leaned to his ears. His voice was raspy and low.

"Why don't you mark me?"

Fang could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He pulled back slightly, turning to look at Tan, who now had a look of both hurt and defiance in his eyes. "What... are you talking about?" Fang asked cautiously.

Fang was having a hard time staying in control when Tan nuzzled his head on his neck, his hot alcoholic breath fanning over his skin. "At Peem's place, everyone - Peem, Q, Chain and even Pun- had these big obvious marks," Tan lifted his index finger, tracing it down on Fang's neck and collarbones. "Here, here and here." slowly and deliberately circling the skin where he saw the marks.

Fang sighed lightly, unable to compose himself at the moment but Tan dismissed his reaction and continued "and they wouldn't shut up about how I don't have one.They teased me a lot, saying I'm not marked like they are."

Fang raised an eyebrow. "They were messing with you, Tan. Why are you even taking it seriously?"

Tan glared at him, his hazy eyes suddenly sharper, though still filled with a drunken stubbornness that Fang knew all too well. "Because it's not fair," His gaze locked onto Fang. His usual playful tone had shifted to something deeper.

Before Fang could respond, Tan reached out, grabbing the collar of Fang's shirt and pulling him closer. Their faces were inches apart now, and Fang could see the storm swirling in Tan's dark eyes.

"Do you not wish to mark me, P'Fang?" Tan asked, his voice husky and low, sending a shiver down Fang's spine.

Fang froze for a split second as the words "P'Fang" rolled off Tan's lips, smooth and deliberate. He rarely heard Tan call him that—it was always just "Fang" unless Tan was being particularly cheeky or, in this case, dangerously provocative.

A low growl rumbled in Fang's throat, his patience snapping like a taut string. Without a word, he bent slightly, grabbing Tan around the waist and lifting him with ease.