Chapter Text
All these vile things come from within; they are what defile you.
Mark 7:23
Even without knowing what to look for, Mark would’ve spotted Jaemin Na from a mile away.
Amongst the sea of wintry blacks and greys, he was a shining beacon of all-white, wearing an oversized, cream cardigan across his broad shoulders beneath a careful styling of dark brown hair. The sleeves were pulled all the way up to his knuckles, even while his long fingers brushed against the silver crucifix dangling from a matching chain.
He was beautiful. A streak of such sudden vanity made Mark ashamed to have the thought at all, but it was true: Jaemin’s eyes were wide and dark, like midnight pools of still water, and he radiated an aura that was equal parts beautiful and lonely, like a framed art piece sitting alone on a stark, white wall.
So he stood out. Salvation was a modest church for a modest town, lacking the grandiosity or decor of a cathedral centuries older than it. A few rows of pews on either side sat between stone columns. A large, ornate crucifix hung from the focal point of the room, beside a polished organ and the white-clothed altar. Prioritising form over function, the church allowed for small speckles of artistry in the stained glass windows lining the walls. They were Mark’s favourite part, depicting the Resurrection of Christ in shards of sunlit gold and red. Jaemin could’ve hung in a gilded frame right alongside them.
The Pastor had been right to draw attention to him, though if Mark had attended the service without forewarning he was certain he would’ve noticed Jaemin all the same—
Across the pews, suddenly, Jaemin turned, as if sensing Mark’s gaze behind him. Their eyes met through the gaps between bodies, and Mark startled, first, surprised to have been noticed, then offered Jaemin a shy smile. To Mark’s chagrin, Jaemin offered one in return, hesitance bleeding into its seams before he turned back to the front of the room.
Once the sermon ended, the congregation was offered tea and coffee in the meeting room adjacent to the church. Patience was one of Mark’s weakest virtues, so his knee bounced as he stood in the corner and tracked Jaemin milling about the room. He didn’t talk to anyone, barely offered them so much as a smile, just helped himself to a polystyrene cup of coffee, left as black as his saddened eyes.
As prayer leader for much of his youth, Mark had a lot of practice at this, side-stepping the throngs of aunties calling him handsome with polite excuses as he approached the fold-out table. Jaemin noticed him a second earlier than Mark would’ve expected him to, eyes landing on Mark’s shoes, then sliding up the length of his legs, his torso, his neck, and his mouth, until their gazes met.
“Are you new here?” Mark asked conversationally.
Jaemin looked on-guard for a moment, which wasn’t good. Mark tried to relax his body and kept his smile open and unassuming, arms relaxed by his sides. Jaemin’s eyes slid back down to his neck.
“I haven’t seen you here before is all,” Mark clarified. “Haha.”
“About as new as you are,” Jaemin said, voice gravelly as he arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Since I haven’t seen you either.”
“I’m Mark. I usually go to the dawn service.” Which was the truth. “But I slept in today.” That part was a lie. Jaemin already looked defensive enough, he didn’t need to know he’d been singled out amongst the masses. He would feel alienated enough as is; Mark’s mission was to revert that, not exacerbate it. “You can ask the Pastor if you want, cross my heart.”
“I’ll believe you.” Jaemin huffed through his nose and took a sip of his coffee as he waved Mark off. “And yes, I guess so. I moved here a few weeks ago.”
Nothing Mark didn’t already know. It had travelled down the grape-vine via Pastor Choi, and even without the rumour mill, Jaemin stood out like a sore-thumb. He smelt different to everything else in the area, missing that damp, grimey metallic tang, replaced with something cleaner and fresh. Just by dress and mannerisms alone, it was easy to tell Jaemin had come from a whole other world.
“Oh, for work?” Mark asked.
“Something like that.”
Mark smoothed over the awkward lull by saying, “where are you living? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Hunter’s Creek was a small community nestled at the base of the mountain ranges. It was a primarily Korean expat neighbourhood that straddled the line somewhere between outer-suburbia and the sticks, close enough to the city to be relevant while maintaining affordability, further enough away to keep to itself. Everyone knew everyone, aided by mass at the local church, uniting them every Sunday.
“Up on Hinge road.”
“Ah, in Aunty Yu’s place?” Jaemin looked caught off-guard. “Dude, it’s not like there’s a ton of real estate to go around. She usually rents it out to travellers and stuff over the holidays.”
“You know each other?”
“‘Course.” Mark grinned. “It’s a cute place, hey?” Mark’s curiosity was piqued, wondering what made Jaemin’s application stand out above the rest, worthy of something long-term. “I went to school with her daughter —she used to live there too, ‘till she moved out. Between you and me, her mom was kinda the cranky type.”
Jaemin looked relieved.
“I noticed,” he admitted, glancing over his shoulder like she might be in the room. He sipped his black coffee.
“Don’t worry, she’s not in the congregation,” Mark reassured with a laugh, placing a comforting hand on Jaemin’s shoulders. “You’re totally safe here, except for all the Moms eyeing you off. You single?”
“What?”
“I mean, you’re a handsome dude,” Mark pointed out. “Fresh meat for all the aunties to set you up with their daughters.”
He felt the way Jaemin stiffened under his palm, then unwind.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “Yeah, I am.”
“Then we’ll keep that to ourselves. Unless you want a hundred blind dates in the next week.”
Jaemin winced at the thought. Mark laughed. This made Jaemin give a small, pleased smile, that lit up his face and cranked up said handsomeness to a hundred. Vanity was a vice, but Jaemin was so classically beautiful it felt like it circled around into something holy, a God-given gift. Were it a few centuries earlier, Jaemin would’ve had a thousand portraits in his image. Mark already had a good feeling about him, deep-seated right in the root of his stomach.
“I’m definitely not looking for romance right now,” Jaemin assured. “Can I trust you to keep my secret?”
Mark mimed zipping his lips shut and throwing away the key.
“On God,” he promised, and Jaemin smiled again. “Guys like us need to stick together, right?”
“‘Guys like us’?”
“Young, single, of the cloth?” Mark waggled his eyebrows. Jaemin huffed through his nose, biting on his lip to hold back his smile. Mark wanted to see him set it free.
“We’re not exactly clergymen.”
“I was youth group leader in my teens. Close enough, right?” Jaemin snorted. “You ever do anything like that?”
Jaemin hesitated, then shook his head.
“Honestly, I’m notttttt—” he mulled over his words, dragging out the last few syllables into a gravelly hum. “—The faith stuff, it’s a bit new for me, still. I went to church as a kid, but I didn’t pay much attention as a teenager.”
Mark nodded, although he couldn’t relate.
“What changed?”
“Things.” Jaemin shrugged, nonchalant. “I guess I felt a bit lost and needed some guidance.”
“I get that.” Mark put his hand on Jaemin’s forearm and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Really. It takes a lot of bravery to admit you’re lost, y’know? To stop and ask for directions, especially from Him.”
“You sure lay it on thick.” Jaemin threw back the rest of his coffee and laughed. It showed all his teeth, illuminating his face. “You’re not going to ask me to buy your Tupperware or something, are you?”
“Dude!” Mark guffawed and slapped Jaemin’s arm. “I just seriously think it’s admirable!”
“Mmm, it’s nothing special, just the regular walk of life.” He said it dryly, with an edge of humour that wasn’t quite sharp enough to cut through the depth beneath it. Wherever Jaemin Na had been before now was a dark place, despite his warm, pure light —that, above all else, Mark was sure of. His cup now empty, Jaemin moved to refill another. “Did you want one?”
The consideration was sweet, endearing and kind. It spoke to his character.
“I’m alright, thanks,” Mark returned. Jaemin mumbled, suit yourself, and refilled. “You should try the cookies, though. Pastor Choi has one hell of a secret recipe.”
“Am I allowed?” Jaemin eyed the glass container of them beside the drinks station. “I still feel a bit new.”
“Dude, totally.” Mark grabbed one for him and held it out. “Try.”
Jaemin took the biscuit with a hungry bite, licking sugar dust off of his pretty lips and struggling to catch flying crumbs and chocolate chips as a few fell down his chest. He brushed his shirt off with the back of his hand that wasn’t holding the tea.
“Delicious,” he complimented. “Wow.”
“Right? I swear he laces them with like, chemical deliciousness or something. Once you have one, it’s sooo hard to stop.”
“I should ask him for the recipe.”
“Might need to butter him up at a few more sermons first,” Mark teased. “You bake?”
“Mm, I love to cook.”
Mark wondered that maybe if Jaemin was bitten into, he’d be as sweet as a cookie. How cute.
“Shh shh,” Mark urged. “Your bachelor status points just went up.”
“Right, my bad.” Jaemin laughed, showing the thick of his throat. There was still a crumb snagged at the neckline of his tee. Mark wanted to brush it away, but thought better of it.
“Hey, if you like to cook, you should come to our bible study club,” he offered. “We do a little potluck thing on Thursday night —me and some of the guys around town— eat good food and go through our favourite verses with new members of the congregation. It’d be a good chance for you to meet everyone.”
Jaemin hesitated. It was a split second that spiralled on for eternity as Mark’s stomach filled with bile, worried he’d misstepped and fucked up everything before it could even begin.
Then, it passed.
“That sounds nice,” Jaemin admitted. “I’m in desperate need of a social life around here.”
“Dude, aren’t we all? There’s like, nothing to do.” Mark laughed. “Hence weekly dinner parties, reading the same book we’ve all read a million times.”
Jaemin hummed, finishing his next cup of coffee. Mark didn’t know how he could withstand it. The cup was still steaming, it must’ve been piping hot.
“Let’s trade numbers,” Mark suggested. “I can text you the details.”
“You want my number?” Jaemin cocked his head to the side. “You don’t even know my name.”
Mark’s heart stopped dead in his chest, wondering how he could’ve made such a crucial mistake. He tried to play it off with a smile, but it was pulled taut across his cheeks.
“I figured I could learn it from your contact,” he joked, but Jaemin didn’t laugh. “It was getting too awkward to ask, haha.”
“It’s Jaemin.” Jaemin held out his phone, unlocked and willing. “Jaemin Na.”
“Mark Lee.”
“So you’ve said.”
“Not with the surname I didn’t.” Mark punched in his number and sent himself a text, so Jaemin wouldn’t have a chance to forget to, then grinned at him. “Dude, it’s gonna be so fun. You’re gonna fit right in around here, I bet.”
“Hope so.” Jaemin sighed, a little melodramatic, a little forlorn. “I’ve had enough moving around for a lifetime. I’m ready to settle, you know?”
Mark related, nodding.
“Just without a girlfriend.”
“Not that ready,” Jaemin agreed. Mark giggled and slapped his bicep. Jaemin tensed up, blinking, a little affronted. “Look, it was nice meeting you, but I need to get home soon.”
“Oh.” Mark was hoping for at least another cup of coffee, maybe relocating to the overpriced cafe down the road for takeaway drinks and a walk. He wanted more of Jaemin’s time, but he was aware that monopolising too much of it would scare him away. It was just so refreshing to have a new face in town, and Mark was surprised at how much he could feel them getting along already. That good feeling persisted, seeping from his stomach all the way down to his toes. A spark of chemistry that felt divine in nature —thus Mark knew, now more than ever, that he couldn’t give into his greedy nature. “Okay, sure man. I’ll see you Thursday, though?”
Jaemin smiled prettily.
“Looking forward to it.”
He gave Mark a friendly brush of a palm on his shoulder, then began to make his exit. Mark watched him navigate the crowded room effortlessly, like a single sheep merging back into the flock, until he disappeared from view.
☾
“How was it?” Jeno asked. Mark didn’t even have his laces undone, grinning in endearment.
“Samoyed~” he cooed. “Greeting me at the door, puppy? Waiting for your owner like a good boy?”
Jeno rolled his eyes as Donghyuck’s head popped out behind him to chirp, “He’s been so lonely, missing his enrichment. You need to take him for more walks.”
“You’re here too,” Mark pointed out. Jeno mimed banging his forehead against the wall. It just made Mark and Donghyuck coo harder. “How’s Chenle?”
“On his best behaviour. Stop worrying so much.”
Mark couldn’t help it, after everything. “Where is he?”
“Barn,” Donghyuck answered, “playing with the kittens.”
“Thanks. C’mon puppy, walk time!”
Jeno was unenthused, but still slipped on his shoes to follow Mark back out into the farmyard. The ground was sodden after all the rain last night, so the fresh air smelt of wet earth and dew, soft beneath Mark’s boots. Despite the previous storm clouds, the sky was blue and clear, the sun warm on the back of his neck.
Jeno yawned as they made their way to the barn, thick eyelashes drooping as he curled his fingers into Mark’s sleeve. It was insufferably cute, like a little tired puppy.
“Sleepy?” Mark asked.
“I’m okay,” Jeno insisted, and helped Mark wheel open the huge barn doors. Renjun must’ve let Thistle and Abbadon out onto the pasture before he left for work after mass —he was the only one conscientious enough to keep an eye on the weather radar. It was warm enough that Abbadon’s blanket was left over the hooks in his stable, and Mark was sure the horse was in as good a mood as he was, with the weather allowing him to roam around.
Chenle was in the corner of the barn, flicking strands of hay at the kittens and giggling as they flailed at it with tiny paws. Edelweiss was flopped over on her side, watching with a careful eye but not intervening. For a barn cat, she was incredibly tolerable. Mark greeted her by running a hand through her mottled, tortie fur. She tilted her chin up and demanded scratches, which he obeyed.
“You’re back,” Chenle greeted. “How was it?”
“Good.” It felt weird that Mark had missed their usual dawn service at all. His absence was obviously noticed; it was a nice feeling, even if Mark felt bad for leaving it. “There’s a new guy in town, I invited him over Thursday. I think you guys will really like him.”
“Yeah? What’s his deal?”
“Dunno yet,” Mark admitted. He sat in the hay and smiled as Jeno crouched on all fours to join Chenle in teasing the kitten triplets. They were so old already, with their lanky limbs in that adolescent phase. Soon they’d stop drinking milk, and Edelweiss would have to teach them to hunt. Chenle and Jeno were obsessed with the kittens, so they were doing a good job of desensitising them to human company. “I think he moved here for a change of pace, y’know?”
“It’s a nice one,” Jeno agreed.
“Definitely slower than the city,” Chenle added. Mark and Jeno exchanged wary glances. Chenle sighed, so the kittens took their opportunity to finally trap down his stick of hay. “That doesn’t mean I prefer the city, jeez. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, am I?”
“We know, we know,” Mark assured. “We just worry. If you’re gone, the puppy will have no one to bother. He’ll be sad.”
“Aww, poor thing.” Chenle trilled at Jeno as he dragged a hand down his face. Chenle stroked the back of his head. “Good thing I’m here forever!”
That comforted Mark.
They played with the kittens until they were too tired to move, plopping against their mother’s side for a midday nap. Renjun sent Mark a text asking for help with the coop, since he hadn’t had time that morning. Jaemin’s contact was still at the top of Mark’s list, but he hadn’t sent anything himself. Mark frowned, trying not to feel disappointed.
He took Chenle and Jeno on an egg hunt, skin numb to the pecks of broody hens. The eggs were still warm and would serve as breakfast tomorrow morning before prayers. Mark’s stomach grumbled at the thought; he pushed the instinct down.
Other weekend chores included the usual: afternoon prayers and helping Donghyuck with the house. Jisung came home from work at the town cafe with Renjun in tow, and Mark roped them into dishes and a sing-along while Jeno herded the animals into their housing for the night.
Donghyuck and Chenle got dinner ready, chopping up all the meat and vegetables. Chenle diced carrots and kept sneaking pieces into his mouth —on the third one, he caught Mark’s gaze midway and lowered his hand guiltily.
Mark excused himself outside. It was a beautiful evening, the air was warm and the sky was filled with stars. Mark sat on the patio and called his mother, wishing her a good night, and asking her to pass it onto his father. She complained about his father being too busy to come home for dinner, and Mark listened with half an ear. If his father wasn’t home, maybe he could sneak in a visit? His family home was only across the paddock, but it could take a while to cross by foot, and he wasn’t about to start bothering Renjun for the car keys just to see his mommy.
Living here and being assigned house leader meant that Mark needed to prove himself capable of handling that sort of responsibility, not retreat home with his tail between his legs. He chewed on his cheek, pulling his phone out to take a picture of the sky. It was an old model, so the lens wasn’t great, but it was so clear a night the white dots filled the screen up nonetheless. He sent it to Jaemin and typed, great visibility tonight, haha!!! Make sure you don’t miss it, it’s the best part of the area :) and sat there waiting for a response.
His stomach growled. Mark missed his mother’s cooking.
☾
The church ran weekday masses on Wednesdays and Thursdays, which Mark helped with. There was a dusty old computer in the Pastor’s office where Mark could sit, after the service, to answer emails and phone calls from the community, almost every single one about opening times. Early in the afternoon, Pastor Choi asked for Mark’s help with a burst pipe in the visitor bathrooms. After that, he lent Mark a hand with setting up for their bible group that evening.
“Jaemin is coming?” Pastor Choi asked.
“I think so.” Mark never got a reply from his stars picture, but he held faith.
“You should call him to confirm.”
“I don’t want to bother him.”
“Bother him? You said it yourself, he’s looking for guidance. You have to make sure he gets it.”
“Right. Sorry, Pastor.” Mark lowered his eyes. “I’ll call him.”
Mark stepped outside to excuse himself. His thumb hovered over the dial button, but he thought better of it. His mind flashed through images of Jaemin with his dark hair and cream cardigan. He’d been friendly and approachable, but cagey enough to betray a certain skittish air about him, like a domesticated animal who’d been left in the wild on his own for too long. He would come, Mark was certain, so long as Mark left the bait out and waited.
Lying to Pastor Choi was sinful, Mark was sure, but God would forgive him for doing the right thing. He knew how to show Jaemin guidance, and the older generations’ antiquated customs weren’t it. Instead of calling, Mark sent him the time, address, and I’ll see you there?
Certain the Pastor would be watching, Mark pressed his phone to his ear and faked an easy conversation to an empty receiver.
“He’s coming,” he promised as he returned. “Said he can’t wait.”
Pastor Choi smiled with relief.
“That’s good. He’s a very sweet kid, it will be nice to welcome him to the community… We need all the help we can get, these days.”
Mark agreed.
At home, Chenle had needled Jisung into helping him make dumplings, folding up bits of mince and spring onions in their wrappers. Jisung kept tearing through the skins and getting an earful, which made Mark laugh. There were a few foil-lined bowls and plates already waiting on the counter. Donghyuck and Jeno were outside completing the evening’s chores —Mark could hear them arguing with Abbadon about getting into the stable.
“Where’s Renjun?” Mark asked. “We need to go soon if we’re dropping you off first.”
“Bath,” Chenle answered. It must’ve been that time of day, then. “He shouldn’t be too long.”
Mark nodded and pulled out his phone, antsy. Jaemin had finally sent him a response: a single thumbs up. Relief washed over him, and he let out a long breath.
“I’m here, I’m here,” Renjun called. He was dressed so cutely in a turtleneck and jeans, his skin still pink and steaming. He smelt like jasmine and his long, black hair was damp. “Ready?”
“Help me get this into the car please,” Jeno said.
Chenle also carried a few containers of the food he’d spent all day preparing, loading them onto Mark’s lap in the passenger seat. The truck wasn’t big enough to fit six, but they got away with it by cramming Chenle onto Jeno’s lap. It was a short drive around the paddock anyway, and Renjun went slow and careful. Chenle would spend the night helping out some of the other members on the commune.
“We’ll see you later,” Mark promised. Jeno squeezed Chenle’s wrist reassuringly. He wriggled out and shut the car door. “We should get a bigger car.”
Renjun laughed as he reversed over the gravel. Donghyuck moaned, relieved to have leg room again.
“Then you should ask your mom for a stipend,” he suggested. Mark wrinkled his nose at the thought. It was unbecoming to ask, even when it was something they needed. He always felt greedy.
“Maybe,” Mark figured.
In truth, they usually had their Thursday night bible readings at home or somewhere else on the commune, but it was easier to run at the church when inviting new members. They arrived thirty minutes before Mark had told Jaemin to meet them, shuffling into one of the community rooms in the faculties adjacent to the church. Mark helped Renjun spread out the food and set up a stack of bowls, swallowing down the saliva that watered his mouth.
Jaemin arrived ten minutes late. Today, he was wearing a collared white shirt beneath a beige, cable-knit woollen sweater, with black trousers. His shoes were leather and shiny, far too nice for the copious amounts of wilderness in the area, and his hair hung softly above his brow. At the centre of his chest, the silver crucifix glinted in the light.
“Small turn out?” Jaemin asked, hovering uncertainly in the doorway.
“Dude, I wasn’t kidding about young dudes being an endangered species around here.” Mark dapped Jaemin up and put a hand on the small of his back to guide him forward. “Come meet everyone.”
Jaemin looked unsure of himself, holding a plastic container of food which Mark offered to take. Renjun stepped forward first and smiled.
“It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Renjun.” He outstretched his hand, which Jaemin returned.
“Finally?” he parroted.
“Mark’s mentioned you a lot, I hope that’s okay.” Renjun laughed prettily. “We don’t get many new people around here. I think we’re overly excited.”
“Sorry if I’ve been smothering,” Mark continued. “My only friends are these idiots, so—”
“Hey!”
“Renjun always says I’m like an overexcitable puppy.”
“Which is true.” Renjun huffed his bangs out his face.
“Speaking of puppies, this is Jeno—” Terminally shy, Jeno offered a smile and a small wave by the table. “And that’s Jisung and Donghyuck.”
“Good to have some fresh meat around here,” Donghyuck joked, rubbing his hands together like a fly, which made Renjun throw his head back and laugh. “If I have to hear Mark talk about Exodus nine-sixteen one more time, I’m gonna go crazy.”
“Your favourite?” Jaemin guessed.
“My mom’s taemong.” Mark rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “It’s special to me.”
“Don’t we know it,” Renjun deadpanned. He took the container out of Mark’s hands and peeled back the lid. “Wow, this smells delicious.”
“I hope it stayed warm,” Jaemin said. The meaty smell wafted out and made Mark dizzy. He shouldn’t have, but he glanced down. It was toothpicks skewered through sundae, blood sausages, intestines stuffed with rice and meat. They were a deep, purplish sanguine.
“Warm enough.” Renjun set the container down and offered Jaemin a plate. “We should eat. Guests go first.”
Jaemin seemed wary with the honour, but too hungry to resist. He piled a wide dish with bits and pieces, the dumplings from earlier and some of his own sundae, a pile of rice. Donghyuck had made jjigae in his crockpot, and brought a ladle to deposit it into little bowls. Mark watched with a smile as they all helped themselves, then sat around the other folded table.
Mark gestured for everyone to hold hands and did a simple grace, thanking the Lord for good food and good company, then told them to dig in.
“So what brings you to Hunter’s Creek?” Renjun began.
“I’m not sure yet,” Jaemin admitted. “I just wanted to get out of the city, and saw there was a spare room.”
“What do you do for work?” Donghyuck followed up.
“Actually, since I left, I’ve just been living off of savings,” Jaemin answered. “I was a vet nurse.”
“Really?” Jeno perked up. Jisung looked like he was about to vibrate out of his seat in excitement, but didn’t speak. “That’s so cool.”
“And useful,” Donghyuck gushed. “There’s only one vet, and he’s an hour’s drive away. It’s a pain.”
“And the call out fee is ridiculous,” Renjun continued. “If you’re ever looking for work, let me know. I have three kittens that need their shots soon.”
“I’m not really qualified to…”
“Close enough.” Renjun waved him off. “I’m sure we can get you the supplies you need, and we’ll pay.”
“I’ll think about it,” Jaemin promised. “You have cats?”
“Barn cats.”
“You have a barn?”
“Work in progress,” Jeno answered. “Right now, it’s just a heifer and a gelding, but we’re hoping for more soon.”
“Jeno wants pigs, but Mark wants sheep,” Donghyuck translated. “We can’t even decide on what to name three kittens, so as you can imagine, the divide is tearing this family apart.”
“Sheep are cute,” Mark whined. “The wool would be useful. All pigs do is become bacon, and we’re not an abattoir!”
“It’s not like we really need Abbadon either.” Jeno pouted. “Pigs are just cute.” Jisung waved his hand. “Yes?”
“We could teach it to hunt for truffles in the woods?” he offered.
“And who is ‘we’ in this scenario?” Donghyuck questioned. “The only ones who ever do any training are me and Mark!”
“Good cop bad cop?” Jisung replied. Donghyuck snorted.
“Do we even have truffles here?”
Jaemin watched the exchange with a polite smile in complete silence.
“You all live together?” he asked Mark quietly.
“Yeah, we share a house. Near that hill on Wolfsbane drive?”
“I don’t know it.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll see it eventually.” Mark smiled at him. “It’s actually just part of my family’s property, but they let us move in. Donghyuck, Jeno and I grew up together— we met Renjun and Jisung at Sunday school. There’s also Chenle —he’s a family friend— but he couldn’t make it tonight.”
“Seems like a crowded house.”
“It’s a big home, but it’s the best. It’s like living with my brothers.”
“It sounds nice,” Jaemin mused. “You didn’t have to come all this way for my sake. I could’ve come to you.”
“It’s easier to meet in the middle,” Mark assured. “Sometimes the group’s a little bigger than this, ‘cuz we invite the neighbourhood. I thought it would be better to start small, meet the other congregation members our age, y’know?”
Jaemin hummed, and said nothing further. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, and it itched at Mark’s skin. Jaemin seemed grateful for the company and friendliness, but there was something scrutinising in those dark eyes, sizing Mark up. He didn’t like it; it was a single blemish on the inside of Jaemin’s otherwise perfect shell.
Jeno asked Jaemin about his experience as a vet, and they got drawn into a conversation about their love of animals. Renjun peppered him with sparing questions about work and his past life —Jaemin danced around most of them. Renjun quickly caught on to the fact that the past was not to be touched, and asked Mark to help him clean up. They washed dishes in the church’s back room kitchenette, and drew the chairs around a circle to discuss their favourite verses, or what had stood out to them that week.
It was obvious from Jaemin’s long stretches of silence that they had prodded at him too much, and he had retreated into his shell —either that, or he was exhausted from so much socialisation. Perhaps both. Mark watched Jaemin carefully as he reached into his bag and pulled out a well-worn bible, stuffed with a hundred colourful tabs. It made Mark smile.
“This week, I’ve been thinking a lot about the Parable of the Lost Sheep,” Renjun began. He must’ve noticed Jaemin’s nerves, easing him into this gently, like lowering a baby into a warm bath. “Someone important to me questioned his path and his place. I had to ask myself if I could leave ninety-nine sheep to save him.” Renjun smiled. “I would, of course, for anyone I loved. It made me feel closer to God.”
“That’s great,” Mark told him, placing a hand on Renjun’s shoulder. “In times of faith being doubted, I often think of the Sower, but there’s an important message missing from the gospel: the soil can change. Crops can flourish one year and fail the next. It’s important not to give up hope.”
Renjun nodded, touching Mark’s hand back gratefully.
Jaemin drawled, “Who?”
The air was stagnant and silent. Mark felt Renjun tense beneath his palm.
“Who what?” Renjun asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“Who strayed?” Jaemin leaned forward in his seat, elbows on his knees.
“Someone close to me,” Renjun offered vaguely. Mark’s hand squeezed a gentle warning. “A good friend of mine. Someone close to him tried to convince him to leave the church, said it wasn’t good for him.”
“Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves,” Jaemin quoted. Donghyuck shot Mark a brief, concerned look.
“Matthew seven-fifteen?” Mark asked.
“I love all of the Sermon on the Mount,” Jaemin admitted. The tension began to diffuse. “I can relate, you know, to being that lost sheep. I lost my faith for longer than I should’ve. I was…”
“Tempted by the wolf in sheep’s clothing?” Jeno offered. Jaemin nodded.
“Yes, something like that…” he trailed off. “So forgive me if I seem rusty.”
“Of course we will.” Renjun shook his head, previous apprehension washing away. It filled Mark with pride, to see Jaemin assimilating so well. He dug his nails into his palms until the sin wore down, leaving only the happiness of this moment at its core. “You’re back on the right path now, I can tell. That’s all that matters.”
They exchanged more parables. Jisung spoke of that week’s sermon, which had resonated with him after a tough week at work. Jeno chose a psalm to share that they read aloud together: The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.
Donghyuck packed away the food into the car, but not before Renjun hauled it off into a container of leftovers for Jaemin.
“Living alone makes it easy to pick up bad habits,” he insisted. “Make sure you take care of yourself.”
“Really, I’m fine, I love to cook—”
But Renjun was hearing none of it.
Mark laughed and said, “Sorry, he gets broody like a hen.”
“It’s nice,” Jaemin replied. “Everyone is. You’re very welcoming.”
“It’s a small community. Love thy neighbour and all —better to make friends than enemies, hey?”
“Definitely.”
“You should come visit the house sometime,” Mark offered. “Meet the animals, take a tour. See if you’re up for some work.”
Jaemin hummed.
“Maybe.”
The lack of commitment was frustrating, itching under Mark’s skin.
“Well, I’ll see you Sunday. Can check in on how you feel then, haha.”
“Alright.” Jaemin gave a weary smile. His eyes dropped to Mark’s mouth, then back up. “Are you sure you don’t need these?”
“Huh?”
“These.” He jostled the containers in his arms. “You didn’t eat anything.”
“My eating schedule is all whack from working on the farm and stuff,” Mark excused. “I’ll probably eat the bajillion leftovers we have once I’m home, don’t worry. Sorry, the guys are used to my weird habits by now, haha. I should’ve given you a heads up.”
“It’s not my business, just…” Jaemin gave Mark a slow, rolling once-over. “...make sure you eat something proper. Don’t skip meals.”
Mark smiled at him. His concern was touching, warm and sweet as it slid down Mark’s throat into his chest and curled up there.
“I’d never.” They stood at the door. Mark touched Jaemin’s hand. “Drive safe, okay? I’ll text you.”
“Alright,” Jaemin consented. He gave everyone else a curt nod in farewell, before getting into his city-goer hatchback and driving away. Once the headlights had disappeared into the thicket of trees, Mark’s smile slid off of his face.
“I’m not sure about him,” Donghyuck admitted, standing behind Mark. He hadn’t heard him approach, but Donghyuck was good at that. Loud and jostling only when he felt he needed to be. “Something’s off.”
“He doesn’t trust us yet,” Mark agreed. “He’s new. Give him time to warm up… he’s probably overwhelmed by the town.”
“I guess.” Donghyuck sighed, hands on his hips. It dislodged his sleeves, showing a flash of marred, silvered skin beneath. Donghyuck caught Mark staring and quickly tugged the hems down. “At least he seemed to like my food. He practically licked the plate clean.”
“Just what we need… another hungry mouth to feed your ego.”
“You bet.” Donghyuck elbowed Mark, and they both snickered.
☾
Mark drove past Hinge road a few times on his way home from working at the church. It was a slight detour, but he liked the quiet in the car, to give him time to think. He could see Jaemin’s little hatchback in the driveway, but it didn’t seem to move for the rest of the week.
On Sunday, Mark felt a prickle on the back of his neck when Jaemin walked in, this time wearing baby pink cashmere. Mark waved to him across the room, tangled up in the sound system cables. Jaemin laughed at the sight and waved back. Mark’s cheeks went warm, and his heart swelled with anticipation.
After mass, Mark found Jaemin with a cup of coffee and one of Pastor Choi’s infamous cookies.
“Did you enjoy today?” he asked.
“It was a beautiful sermon. You’ll have to pass my compliments on to the Pastor,” Jaemin replied. “Since when did you work here?”
“I help out every now and then, do odd jobs and stuff.” Mark shrugged. “My family has been a part of this church for a long time. Pastor Choi is practically my like, uncle. Haha.”
“Cute.”
This made Mark warm, too.
“That’s most of my work really, just helping out around town,” he mused. “A lot of the population’s kinda old and uh, should I say out-of-touch?” He lowered his voice for that part. “Half my income is just setting up new TVs.”
“A heroic handyman.”
“That’s me.” Jaemin’s smile, once more, caught Mark off-guard with how beautiful it was. The sort of smile that could coax one out of you just by looking at it. It was weird; when Jaemin didn’t smile, he had this icey sadness to him, like a wounded animal that wouldn’t let you approach. It was so lonely it could make Mark’s heart ache, desperate to help him. When he smiled, all of that disappeared. It was magnetic —that was an important quality to their church. “Hey, surely you’re coming over this afternoon and meeting the kittens.”
“I don’t know…”
“Dude, it’s kittens. Wait any longer and they’re just gonna be bitchy adult cats.”
“Don’t say that.” Jaemin gasped. “You’re a dog person?”
“Jeno refuses to have one inside of the house, because of his allergies.” Mark sighed. “We’ve thought about a livestock guardian, eventually. Maybe if I win and we finally get sheep, I can have a herding dog too.”
“Would you? Or would you spoil it so much it becomes a lapdog?”
Mark laughed, sheepish.
“Guilty,” he admitted. “So, whaddya say? I can give you a lift, but first— has anyone even given you a tour around town?”
Jaemin shook his head.
“Then let me be the first.”
Mark’s stubbornness must have begun wearing him down, because Jaemin relented.
“Okay.”
Jaemin’s place wasn’t far from the church, so he’d walked. Mark took him for a quick loop around the town centre, pointing out all the good spots with one hand on the small of Jaemin’s back. The church’s charity shop, the overpriced cafe Renjun and Jisung worked at, the best pub in town.
“You ever played pool?” Mark asked.
“Not really.”
“I’ll have to teach you sometime, then.”
“That would be fun.”
A few more restaurants, the local school and an art gallery, the post office and supermarket. Every storefront they passed, Mark introduced Jaemin to all the workers and townsfolk who smiled and waved at him, exchanging introductions and pleasantries about the warming weather with aunties and uncles, and other people from the commune. From what Pastor Choi had gathered around town, Jaemin mostly kept to himself these last few weeks, cooped up in his basement flat. That sort of isolation didn’t suit him —Mark was happy to be the one to break him out of it.
“You really know everyone,” Jaemin observed.
“Small town.” Mark shrugged. “Y’know how it is, haha. Everyone knows everyone.”
Tour over, they looped back to the churchyard and piled into Mark’s car. He tucked his bible on the passenger seat into the glovebox, and balled up the spare receipts into the console cup holder. Mark took the scenic route back to the commune, pointing out the apple orchard and the mountain ranges surrounding Hunter’s Basin.
Mark pulled into the driveway as tyres crunched on gravel, and Jaemin eyed the house through the window, forehead pressed against the glass. Even now, Mark loved the beauty of it, the ochre-coloured shingled roof and white weatherboard. The empty stretches of paddock reached out around them, Abbadon galloping in circles while Thistle flicked her tail and munched on grass. The other houses on the commune could be spotted in the distance in multicoloured splotches, and beyond them the forest and the hills. Great, tall mounds reached out of the earth, swathed in emerald green.
Chenle was reading on the patio swing, barefoot. He looked up when he heard the car and brightened, leaning over the railing.
“Mark!” he shouted gleefully. So cute. “Who’s this?”
“Chenle, Jaemin. Jaemin, Chenle.” Mark locked the car behind him. “I was just inviting Jaemin over to meet the kittens. They got names yet?”
“No.” Chenle stuck out his tongue. “Maybe Jaemin can help be our tiebreaker.”
“That’s a lot of pressure…”
“Come inside first,” Mark insisted. “Want something to drink? Lemonade? Juice? Water?”
“Any coffee?”
“Sorry man, it’s a strict no-caffeine household,” Mark apologised as he led Jaemin up the steps and kicked off his shoes. “We have to curb our addictions over here.”
“How do you live?” Jaemin grimaced. Mark laughed at his wrinkled face, an ugly contrast to his handsome default. “Eugh. Water is fine.”
“Sweeeet.”
Mark poured two glasses and gave Jaemin an impromptu tour through the kitchen, living room, and the upper floors. Most of the bedroom doors were shut because the rest of the house was busy at work, but Renjun was home today, painting in the studio on the second floor. The bay window let in all the midday light, and reflected off the multicolored oil paint smeared on his cheeks.
“Hey, Jaemin, good to see you again,” he greeted.
“What’re you painting?” Jaemin asked him. “Am I allowed to ask, or are you secretive?”
“Not at all.” Renjun turned his easel, where a medium-sized canvas had its first layers down. A few black and white blobs had been outlined over a grey wash background. “I’m copying Anguish by Schenk, do you know it?” Jaemin shook his head. Renjun reached for a little print out clipped to the top of his easel and held it out. Mark examined the painting of a mother sheep bleating painfully for her lamb, while crows waited to feast. “It’s one of my favourites. It’s a fun take on Pietà, without having to suffer through figuring out human anatomy.”
“It’s beautiful,” Jaemin said. “I can see the resemblance already.” He gestured around the room, where Renjun’s canvases decorated every inch of spare space: copies of renaissance classics or depictions with his own spin, the Tower of Babel, Noah’s Arc, the Garden of Eden. “You’re an incredible artist.”
“He is,” Mark agreed. “Our homegrown Michelangelo.”
“Shut up.” Renjun blushed. “Are you an artist, Jaemin?”
“I can barely draw a stick figure.” He snorted. “I like photography, though.”
“You’ll have to take some pictures for us sometime. I know Jeno would kill for a portrait of the cats framed above the door.”
“It could replace the crucifix in the church for all he cares,” Mark joked. They all laughed.
Renjun shooed them away to leave him to his painting, and Chenle waited for them downstairs to take Jaemin to the barn. His eyes lit up when he saw the three kittens, cooing and baby talking in delight. Edelweiss was usually wary with strangers, but even she stood still to grant Jaemin a pat from her head down to the base of her tail.
Seeing Jaemin’s delight, Chenle asked for his help in herding Abbadon into the stable for his daily brush down. He was an infuriatingly disobedient gelding that liked to act flighty, but with Jaemin he stood rigid, knees locked.
“Wow, you really have a way with animals,” Chenle complimented. “It’s incredible.”
“Just experience, I guess?” Jaemin patted Abbadon’s dappled grey nose. “Do you have treats for him? He seems hungry, and he’s been such a good boy. Haven’t you, Abbadon? Yes you have? Yes you haveeee ododododo.”
The gremlin-y voice made Mark laugh.
Chenle watched this with faint amusement, then asked, “How can you tell?”
“Wouldn’t you be hungry if you weighed five-hundred kilos and ran around all the time?”
“...Touche.”
Chenle retrieved a few carrots harvested from their veggie patch, which Abbadon munched up happily.
The coop had been cleared that morning, the birds let out into the yard, but Chenle still excitedly listed off the name of every hen.
“That’s Bernadette, Getrude, and Beatrice, you can tell them apart because they’re a bit paler, and Edith is the dark brown one.”
“Your chickens have old white lady energy?”
“Definitely. They love to complain.” Chenle grinned. “There’s also Maude, but she’s usually off on her own, a total lone wolf —which is ironic, I know— she likes to lay her eggs under the porch and drive Renjun crazy.”
Jaemin went wide-eyed as he nodded and smiled. Mark recognised that expression and laughed at it: total Chenle overload.
“Hey, Chenle,” Mark started. “Donghyuck will be home soon. Didn’t you need to get started on dinner?”
“Oh shi— shoot! When did it get so late?”
Chenle excused himself and raced off back to the house.
“He’s cute,” Jaemin complimented.
“Isn’t he?” Everyone loved Chenle. Mark was glad Jaemin had come to the house, so he could have the chance to meet him. “He and Jisung are the babies of the family.”
“It’s sweet.”
Mark and Jaemin closed the barn together, and Mark gestured to the paddock.
“Walk?” he offered. Jaemin consented by falling into step beside him. He was only wearing trainers, but it hadn’t rained. The grass was dry and forgiving. “I can point out Thistle on the way. We’re hoping to get her a calf maybe next spring? She’s only a yearling.”
“Isn’t that a better time for it?”
“We can’t get her to liveweight. You’d think cows would be absolute pigs, pardon the pun haha, but she’s slow growing. Donghyuck worries we’d be wasting money on the stud, and Jeno just worries about her wellbeing.”
Jaemin laughed, gaze fixed on something on the horizon.
“What?”
“Nothing. You’re a funny household, that’s all.”
“We try, haha.”
Jaemin pointed to something in the distance.
“Who lives in all the other houses?”
“It’s all my family’s land,” Mark admitted. “Mom and Dad rent it out to whoever. That house belongs to Jimin and some of the other girls —they usually go to the dawn service, too.”
“Jimin, I know that name…” Jaemin trailed off, then perked up. “My landlady’s kid?”
“Uh, yeah. They had a pretty bad falling out, from what I can tell. I dunno… we’re not very close.”
“But you’re neighbours.”
“Yeah but… we’re a single house of boys, that’s a single house of girls… you know how it is. It’s a little uh, unseemly?”
“That’s one word for it.” Jaemin arched an eyebrow. “Clinging to your bachelor status?”
“Yeah, haha, something like that.” Mark rubbed the back of his neck. “Our congregation, y’know— we practise abstinence. It’s a little old-fashioned but…” Jaemin was silent. It was impossible to gauge his reaction, but Mark had to be sure. “...I think it’s important.”
“It’s admirable,” Jaemin finally said, just when Mark thought the silence was about to kill him. He brightened as Jaemin’s voice dropped to baby talk. “And who’s this?”
Thistle was just ahead, tail swinging at flies as she munched on fresh grass. Jaemin’s animal handling skills even got him a pat under the chin.
They walked to the edge of the woods, and Mark identified the bird calls and a few mushrooms growing in the damp undergrowth for Jaemin. They passed some of the other members of the commune, doing their daily exercise. Mark smiled and greeted them politely.
“Hunter’s Creek actually runs through these woods,” Mark explained. “Like, the actual thing.”
“The one it’s named after?” He nodded. “Wow.”
“Yeah, it stops at the Basin. It’s a bit of a hike, though, maybe some other time?” Mark pointed out into the distance. “That’s where I grew up.”
It was the biggest house of the lot, triple storied and painted a deep, crimson-tinged brown that blended in amongst the treeline. Even from across the paddock, however, Mark could make out the cream window frames of his childhood bedroom, overlooking the world below. The rooster weathervane next to the chimney spun in lazy circles.
“Wow, your folks must be loaded to own all of this.”
“No? Dude. Psh, what? They’ve just been here forever.” Mark waved him off. “Most of the community from the town built this stuff together when they immigrated decades ago.”
“What do your parents do?”
“Church stuff.” Mark shrugged. “Yours?”
“I don’t really know anymore.”
“Oh, Jaemin… I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. Just… seeds growing through choking bramble and all that.”
Mark was touched the Sower resonated with Jaemin. It was one of Mark’s favourites, after all.
“I understand. I love my family, but the guys are my brothers, too. Blood is important in the eyes of God, but it’s not everything. That’s why he gives us so many other types of love to have.”
“Yeah.” Jaemin regarded Mark with a certain softness that trapped Mark’s breath in his throat, then his eyes fell beside Mark’s head. “What’s that building?”
“Hm?” Mark turned to look, and his empty stomach churned. It was a decrepit thing of black, rotting wood, that stuck out like a sore thumb in the idyllic green fields, a dark stain on clean white fabric. “Oh, that’s the old woodshed. It doesn’t get used much.”
“Is that why it’s locked?” Jaemin eyed the thick chain criss-crossed over its front.
“Yeah, it’s dangerous. Some of the kids like to mess around, and we don’t want them to get hurt. Better to keep them out and the bad stuff in, haha.”
“Why not knock it down?”
“It’s… important. Sentimental? I dunno.” Mark laughed. “Maybe one day when you’re ready, you can see inside it.”
Jaemin’s eyebrows pinched together, but Mark kept him walking to push past the topic, circling back to the house.
“Surely you’re staying for dinner.”
“Is there any point?” Jaemin countered. “Shouldn’t we wait ‘till you feel up to eating?”
“Dude.” Mark poked Jaemin in offence. “C’mon.”
“I can’t. Not tonight.” Mark pouted. “Maybe some other time.” Then, he beamed.
“I’ll be holding you to that.”
Jaemin mirrored his expression.
“I would hope so.”
Jaemin said goodbye to Chenle in the kitchen. Renjun was having a bath upstairs, so Mark promised to pass on a message. He held the passenger door open as Jaemin slid inside. It was bad to be babying him so early, but it was hard to resist. Jaemin had that Prince Charming aura about him, but every now and again something cute and weird poked its spines through the delicate clothing. It was horrendously endearing. Mark was glad Jaemin had become his charge, out of everyone’s to choose from. Fate had never been something Mark took lightly.
By now, the route up Hinge road felt familiar, though Mark wasn’t about to admit to it. He pulled the car into the driveway, headlights piercing through the curtained windows, and gripped the handbrake. The silence was comfortable and delicate, like the iridescent surface of a bubble neither of them wanted to pop. Jaemin didn’t so much as move to open the door.
“We’ll see you on Thursday again, yeah?”
Jaemin blinked, until recognition passed over his face.
“Mhmm.”
“If you feel up to it,” Mark continued, “you should come to the dawn service, next time. I think you’d really enjoy it. It’s a bit…” he searched for the right word. “Meatier? Like we dig into more… stuff.”
“I’ll think about it,” Jaemin offered, which was okay. Mark had the whole week to convince him. They held each other’s gaze for a few moments, until something in the distance snapped. Jaemin’s head swivelled like a deer, fast and startled, spotting somebody waiting on the doorstep. “I’d better go.”
Mark recognised Aunty Yu’s scathing glare and sunk into his seat. The headlights must have shone through the sitting room and irritated her. He offered her an apologetic smile, which she continued to scowl at, as Jaemin jogged up the porch steps.
Her hair was streaked with white, and she was bundled in a fluffy pink dressing gown. It was obvious from Jaemin’s face that he was getting an earful. Mark turned the engine off, hoping to eavesdrop, but it was too noticeable. She marched up to the car.
He wound the window down just a crack.
“You get off of my property now,” she hissed. “And stay away from Jaemin.”
Mark held his hands up placatingly. Whatever gripes she had with her daughter leaving her, that had nothing to do with him.
“I was just driving him home, ma’am.”
“Like Hell you were. I know what you’re like on that farm.” She was spitting now, thick globules hitting the windowpane. “Devils, the lot of you. If I ever see you near my house again, I’ll be calling the police.”
Jaemin looked affronted. Mark shot him an apologetic look and calmly said, “No need for that. I’ll leave.”
Aunty Yu stepped back to let him reverse. Mark could hear her madwoman rambling continue, about demons and evil. Suddenly, it was easy to imagine why Jimin was desperate to leave. Once he was out of the street, Mark pulled over and shot Jaemin a you okay? text. Like usual, Jaemin didn’t reply.
