Archive of Our Own

He knows.

Mark's biggest problem was always his eyes. One shouldn't be so obvious when staring at someone while being an introvert. BamBam once said that Mark uses body language to talk with Jackson; maybe he was right. But at the same time, Mark could also just stand and stare at Jackson, and the whole world would know. The circle started with Mark's big, lovely eyes and ended up there. His heart has the shape of his eyes, so whenever Jackson looked at him, Mark's pulse rate went to billion in a second. His eyes grew bigger, got shiny, and also broke into million pieces because the beating was too thunderous. 

And Jackson was not helping. He took Mark's wrist and counted his pulse on the fan meeting while they were looking at each other. Your heart beats so fast. Are you happy, Mark-hyung? It happened again when they were watching tv. Jackson leaned casually against Mark's chest. After a few minutes, when Jackson changed his position and almost fell asleep, Mark could feel his heart pushing at his lungs and leaving him breathless. Are you scared? But you like horror movies. It didn't stop. Like a constant vibration, like an endless earthquake – Jackson was shaking the very core of Mark.

When Jackson was sick with his stomach at the home interview, Mark made sure that he'd be sitting by Jackson's side. He stroked his shoulder, giving him some comfort and space until Jackson leaned his head against Mark's chest.

Mark couldn't ignore his man anymore. 

Right now, was Mark trying to get some sleep in the van when Jackson decided to bump their shoulders and force his phone in front of Mark's eyes. Have you seen this? It would be another casual yeah or mhm kind of answer, but Mark didn't expect to see a half-naked Jackson's selfie right in front of his face. After Mark mumbled a sleepy yeah, his eyes flung open. He stared at the body that caused him many wet dreams. 

"The hell Gaga…." Mark's voice broke in the middle, "why are you showing me this?" 

Jackson giggled for two reasons; Mark's shocked expression and the three different languages he used in one short sentence. 

"You should've seen your face," Jackson laughed and almost dropped his phone when Mark shoved at his shoulder. "Come on, man, don't be like that."

"You don't be like that." Mark sulked. 

"No, you."

"You!"

"You, you…"

"Shut up, you two." Jaebeom snapped at them from the front seat, "sorry, Mark-hyung."

"It's fine."

Jackson calmed down only for three miserable minutes before he attacked Mark again, this time with a video of two dogs trying to hide in deep snow. He called the creamy, smaller dog Jinyoung while the black one, with snow all over his fur, was Jaebeom. Of course, the leader heard it and sighed in disappointment. 

"But you see, this is what I'm talking about," Jackson rested his head on Mark's shoulder, "they're close, aren't they?" 

"The dogs?" 

"No, hyung," Jackson frowned, but then his face relaxed again, "what do you think about them?"

"About the dogs?"

"Mark!" Jackson pinched his thigh right through the hole in his ripped pants, "I'm serious here."

"Did you quickly change into English so you wouldn't have to explain why do you always skip honorifications in my case?" Mark turned his head at Jackson but saw only the flood of Jackson's brown hair. It could be so easy to sink his nose in there, inhale the sweet scent that was driving him crazy, and put him asleep. 

"Of course not. I'm just secretive." 

"In a van full of people." 

"In a van full of people," Jackson tilted his head back, "do you want to know?" he asked in the exact moment when his puppy eyes landed on Mark's face while Mark had to hold his breath not to sigh lovingly. 

"Why do you do this all the time?" Mark whispered, "why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Secretive?" 

Jackson smiled at that. They looked at each other for some more, and the warm, addictive look left Mark crazy in his head. He wished he could open the window and let his brain freeze off in the cold rain. Jackson was everything Mark ever wanted. From the silly, funny, and cute nature to Jackson's hard-working skills, intellect, and imagination. That man's heart was full of undelivered love that never saw the light of the world. No woman Jackson had ever dated has seen what Mark saw every day; the desire to be loved for who Jackson was, the fragile man who could break under one malevolent look. 

"That's a secret." Jackson chuckled, turning his head back. 

"Of course you would say that." 

"I'll tell you when we're home."

"Jacks, you're not living with us anymore." Mark reminded him, "but do you want to spend the night?"

"Do you?" Jackson looked at him again. 

"Oh, man…" Mark sighed, looking away, making Jackson laugh too loud for their good. "I have to ask my dad."

"JB-hyung!" Jackson pulled away from Mark and bent over the front seat, "can Mark spend the night with me?"

"What am I? His mom?"

"No! Dad!" it was an echo, or Jackson said the same thing at the same time. 

"Do we have a stereo here?" Jinyoung asked, annoyed, "you can do whatever you want, Mark-hyung. Our schedule starts tomorrow at five." 

"Right, it was a joke," Mark shook his head. "You didn't have to ask Jacks."

"But I did," Jackson leaned back against Mark's shoulder. 

**

He knows. 

Why did the hell Mark agree to spend the night with Jackson knowing that the man talked in riddles and secrets? Mark wanted to chicken out. First, he muttered a low, my head hurts. Then when Jackson strode to his car parked in front of the building, Mark whined that he was too tired. He got smacked over his head by JB. 

"What for?"

"What for?" Jaebeom parroted him, "look at him and then ask me again." 

Jackson opened the passenger door for Mark with an inviting smile. Every time Mark submitted to his restrained personality, he felt like a coward. All he wanted was snug closer, to hide in Jackson's arms and be held by his strong arms. Kisses could've been a great bonus. 

"You know…"

"I don't want to listen to your excuses anymore." 

"Listen to your mom, Mark-hyung." Yugyeom joined the party called we know everything about you. 

"You brat, go home too!" Jaebeom chased the maknae away. 

As soon as Jaebeom had his hands full, Mark decided it was an excellent opportunity to chicken out because nobody was left to judge his fear of Wang Jackson's ability to destroy Mark's inner organs in one touch. 

"I have to pack some things!" Mark called after Jackson, still standing by the passenger's door. "Fifteen minutes!" 

"I'll help him, so don't worry!" BamBam was faster than the leader who was always stuck between Yugyeaom and Jinyoung. These two were like a day and night in Jaebeom's life. 

"Don't you wanna go up, hyung?! Mark's probably want to chicken out!"  

"How dare you!" Mark elbowed his guts, "we are supposed to be friends here!" 

BamBam smirked, "friends help each other. Let me help you, hyung."

"How are you exactly helping me?!" Mark hissed. 

"You need each other. Nobody can listen to Jackson's endless blabbering about nothing but you." 

"That's pretty one-sided," Mark whined. 

"And you need him to exist, hyung. You live off his presence."

"What are you even—" 

Thank God it was November, cold and raining, so Mark didn't have to explain his red cheeks. 

**

It was not Mark's first time in Jackson's new apartment. But it was only the second time that they were alone. Jackson always visited or hung out with bandmates, but being alone with the younger man was rare. The sofa in the living room was black last time Mark was here, but now it was dark red with black cushions. Even the wall behind the TV was bloody red. It was almost like Jackson reconstructed the place to Mark's liking – but of course, he could be this delusional because he was Tuan Yien – Seunie's favorite. 

"Tea." A red ceramic cup was placed in front of Mark with the same warm smile as the tea. 

Bloody hell, Mark was so in love. 

"So, I have some leftovers in the fridge. I didn't eat much today because I fell asleep." Jackson was gone in the kitchen, where Mark could see him over the breakfast bar. "Want some?"

"I'm not hungry." 

"You're always hungry!" Jackson called, amused. 

Mark sighed. He had no thoughts of food, but the tea was a pleasant surprise. Usually, Jackson would offer him cold drinks. But since it was cold outside and even the apartment felt like an aquarium, Mark was grateful that Jackson had decided for a warm cup of jasmine tea since Mark wearing hundredths of hoodies and shirts wasn't a fashion thing. 

"But really Seun-ah," Mark sighed when a plate joined the cup on the table in the living room.

"Will you eat, please?" Mark yelped when Jackson massaged the back of his neck with his cold fingers, "please?" 

"I can't believe you're serving me food in your living room. Last time Jinyoung wanted to eat something here, you called him barbaric."

"He was munching chips. He would touch everything with his oily fingers," Jackson pulled away with disgust, "you know I like him but his bad habits…."

"Everyone has some." Mark siped the tea and started to examine the food with a fork. "Is that pork?"

"I made it yesterday when we came back from MBC. At first, I stopped at the barbeque place, but I decided to cook…." Jackson went silent suddenly. The sentence reminded finished only in his head. Mark felt the stare, the curious and exceptional look at himself. When Mark put the food in his mouth and looked back, Jackson cleared his throat and excused himself to the bathroom. 

"I'll take a very quick shower," he walked back into his bedroom, "don't you dare to chicken out!" 

"I swear I'll kill BamBam!" 

Only Jackson's high-pitched laugh was heard from the bedroom when the door had closed. Mark took the plate and stood up. He was definitely not going to eat in the living room. The breakfast bar was a beautiful place made of dark cherry wood. He could even smell the sweet scent. Half of the apartment was different from Mark's last visit over a month ago. 

Mark would buy this place in the blink of an eye. That or he would move in with Jackson and spend his life here taking care of his man. That was the blessing, the dream he would follow into the depth of hell. But at the end of the day, Mark had to remind himself that Jackson always preferred women. 

So much to say to his appetite. 

"Fuck." Mark sighed.        

It hurt to remember Jackson's face when he came home that night after he broke up with Evie. For some reason, it hurt Mark more than he could admit. No matter what, he wanted to see Jackson being loved and happy. When they fell asleep together, Mark wished Evie didn't act like a bitch in heat. A clean breakup would've hurt less than finding out that she was regularly cheating on Jackson. 

Some people… 

"I thought you said you're not hungry." Jackson's voice brought him back from the daydreaming. Only then Mark noticed his empty plate. He had to feed his anger. 

"My God," Jackson laughed for some reason, which a second later, Mark understood as a failing of feeding himself like a proper adult. Jackson leaned over the breakfast bar, and with his thumb, he wiped the sauce from Mark's chin.

"What can I say?" Mark shrugged with a smile, "you're a great cook." 

Jackson froze after those words, and his eyes went glassy. At first, Mark thought he said something inappropriate, but he's never got such a weird reaction for praising someone's cooking skills. 

"Seunie?" Mark stood up from the stool. 

"Hm?" Jackson snapped out of his thoughts, "I just thought if… I don't know if I locked my car."

Mark rolled his eyes and stretched his arm toward Jackson. 

"What?"

"Give me your keys; I'll check it out."

"No, it's fine, I can…."

"You're wet, Seunie." 

Fuck. Mark wished he had eaten his tongue before that nonsense slipped out of his mouth right into his pants. 

"You call me Seunie a lot these days."

Mark rolled his eyes again. How was this man even serious? It was his name. He watched as Jackson disappeared in the hallway, probably getting the keys from his jacket. 

"When you're there…." Mark heard the metal jingle of keys, "check if I didn't forget my scarf there. I hate forgetting clothes in the car. It has such a strange smell … you know? Car smell."

Mark laughed at how adorable Jackson sounded, "roger that, sir." 

"Maybe I forgot it in the studio. Oh shit, my scarf is forever gone by then." It was a small piece of cloth. Mark didn't even know where Jackson bought it or when, but the frown on his face indicated it was necessary.

"I'll buy you a new one," Mark offered. 

"Will you?" 

The soft smile almost undid Mark right in front of Jackson. How can this man walk down the street wearing his heart on his slave-like this? He was beautiful and breathtaking, and Mark wanted to hug him, kiss him, and make love to him until the morning. 

"In that case, I want two." Jackson laughed. 

"I'm going." Mark turned on his heel, his ears burning red thanks to his imagination. 

He shut the door behind himself and almost ran to the emergency staircase. He needed to burn down his spirit and energy. He might break some records when he finished the series of staircases. The underground passage to the parking lot was cold and dim, so Mark almost stumbled over a useless brick lying in the middle. It was practically illegal to think about naked Jackson in his bed. Was God making fun of him? 

The red BMW was parked at the very back. Mark didn't know why Jackson's world suddenly turned black and red. It was a combination of their favorite colors – that or Mark was too desperate. 

He tried the car door only to find it was locked properly. Not even he remembered if Jackson closed it or not. The windows were too tanned to see inside. Mark had to unlock the door and check for the scarf that was really lying on the backseat. How come Mark didn't notice these things? 

"I can't be this tired." He locked the car back and took some time to calm down. 

He was about to spend the whole night with Jackson. 

"Fuck you, Seunie." Mark sighed. Only the existence of cameras in the parking lot stopped him from burying his face into the grey scarf. 

On the way back, Mark took the elevator. He spent the hovering time by looking at his face in the mirror. He was still wearing make-up, his hair was fixed with the spray, and he smelled like a candy shop. That was miserable. The stylist was turning him into a doll. 

Before Mark could even insert the key into the lock of Jackson's apartment, the door flung open and worried Jackson in his sweats, and Mark's XCIII t-shirt appeared. Since when did Jackson have his merch? 

"I thought you got stuck in the elevator or the garage, or someone kidnapped you! How long can it take to check a car? Oh, don't tell me you started to smoke again? Did you have a phone call—" 

Oh yes, the endless lament of Wang Jia'er, as BamBam called it. Mark's brain had to be in a sorrowful state because a simple stop didn't make it to his mouth before he raised his hands and hooked the scarf behind Jackson's neck and then wrapped it all around his mouth. 

"Now, Seunie, I need to take a shower, can I?"

Jackson looked at him in surprise and nodded. 

**

Nah, Mark shouldn't have taken a shower. It would've been better if he stayed sweaty, smelling like a lollipop and strawberry gums. Naked in the shower, Mark found out that he had forgotten his cosmetic bag in the living room with the rest of his clothes. It was stupid, indeed. It reminded him of the old dorm days when he was yelling after Jackson to bring him shampoo and towels. Jackson didn't give a fuck that he saw him naked multiple times – he was only angry because Mark repeatedly forgot his washing staff like a baby or an old man. It was suspicious, and once after an award show, when Mark was so baffled, tired, drunk, and fucking horny for his best friend, that he yelled at Jackson, who was telling him jokes over the closed door to bring him a white gel. Jackson burst inside with shampoo and shower gel in his hands like he was waiting for that moment. 

"I'm blessed even if I'm hated." Mark sighed and slid the shower door open, "Seun-ah!" he called. 

"I know! I was waiting!" Jackson yelled back, and Mark sighed again. 

"You could've just brought it in!" Mark popped out his head from the shower. 

"Where's the fun in it!" suddenly, the door has opened, and Jackson walked inside in a heartbeat – as if it was the most natural thing. 

"Fuck," Mark muttered and quickly closed the door. 

Mark spent swearing at himself and trying to calm down for the rest of his showering time. His body was starving and craving, and it was showing off in his head full of visions: from the perverted ones to the softest where he would fall asleep on Jackson's lap. Mark kept reminding himself that he was at his friend's place, and masturbating in Jackson's shower would be like breaking the most important rule in the history of friendships. 

But dear lord, Mark was about to cry. 

**

Jackson was in the living room, watching TV and slurping cold noodles. But the shirt he was wearing didn't let go of Mark's thoughts. He was curious and wanted to check his closet to see if one of his shirts was not missing. 

"What are you watching?" Mark dropped on the sofa with a heavy sigh. He was tired, and his body hurt as if he was rolling stones up to a hill the whole night. 

"I have no idea," Jackson shook his head, "see that blond girl?" 

"Yep."

"She's a werewolf." 

"Alright." Mark nodded. 

"A regular wolf bit that guy, and now she feels like someone is stealing her friend. She's overprotective, won't let him date anyone, and always waits for him before and after school. She's like yandere. I swear I saw her slapping his shoulder ten times already. Alright, ten is too much, but still, five at least. Would you slap someone's shoulder like that when you swore to the Moon that you would protect them no matter what?" 

Mark was staring the whole time at Jackson, pointing at the characters on the tv screen while holding his bowl in the other hand. 

"No." Mark shook his head.

"Right?" 

Mark was never the first to look away. He was pulled closer by an invisible force that was streaming straight from the middle of Jackson's chest, from his heart, core, and soul – Mark wanted everything for himself. 

"I would never hit or hurt the person I love," Mark said in one breath. 

"I don't think she loves him; she's just…." Jackson swallowed the rest of the words but kept looking into Mark's eyes. "you still smell like strawberry candy."

The spell broke like the snapping of fingers. Mark rolled his eyes in disgust. He knew Jackson was probably trying to resolve the growing tension between them – and as always, with his dumb findings. Mark withdrew, faking an offending by pressing his lips into a thin line and crossing his arms over his chest. He moved away from Jackson until he was on the other side of the sofa. 

"Come on!" Jackson whined, "don't be like that."

"You don't be like that!" Mark retorted. 

"I know you're not angry with me."

"Oh, you wish." Mark frowned.

"I know you, Markie."

"Now, skipping honorifics again." Mark frowned even deeper. 

"You told me we're friends, and I don't have to call you hyung when we're alone." Jackson put the bowl on the table.

"I've changed my mind."

"Don't sulk." Jackson pouted, "come on, Markie."

"Keep calling me like that and—" Mark's hands trembled. He felt empty; his hands made for holding were lonely and empty. 

"You call me Seunie all the time."

"That's your name!"

"Mark is your name!" Jackson laughed, "what is even going on here?" 

"Nothing is going on here." Mark pressed himself in the corner of the sofa as if Jackson was a poisonous spider. He didn't want him that close, didn't want to feel his musk, to breathe the same air, to get warmed by Jackson's body heat.  

"What happened?" Jackson asked softly, "you act strange."

Mark felt like crying. He was so close to bursting into tears, kicking, yelling, and begging Jackson to like him back. It hurt, deep in his heart. 

"I'm just tired. I'm not angry, Gaga. Just tired…" Mark closed his eyes. 

"Mark…"

"I swear." Mark insisted. 

"Mark…"

"I smell like candy, fine. I look like a doll, fine. Can we move on? I'd appreciate it if we just… stay quiet and watch this horrible move about a yandere werewolf." 

"You want your rest, I understand." Jackson nodded, solemn. He pulled away and took the bowl back. 

Mark didn't know why that respectful gesture made him even more sad and hollow. He felt like going insane. Suddenly, when Jackson turned away, Mark didn't want to be left alone anymore. He didn't want to be untouched and cold on the sofa. The silence was his defensive system, but it didn't mean Jackson should chicken out. 

"Can you get me a blanket? It's cold." Mark hugged his body.

"Of course!" Jackson said with his mouth full. He just turned to his side and grabbed the neatly folded blanket he probably prepared while Mark was showering. 

It hurt even more. 

"I'm fully prepared." Jackson stood up, swallowing the food. Mark looked up at Jackson with eyes so loving that he didn't know if he could ever look at Jackson differently. 

"Here." Jackson unfolded the blanked and tucked Mark under it. 

This unreasonably adorable asshole drove Mark crazy with his affection and pure heart. To the hell with Wang Jia'er Kayee whatever Seunie. It was too powerful a punch into his ribcage to survive without help. Jackson should take responsibility. 

"Are you done eating?" Mark asked when Jackson was holding the bowl but not eating anymore. 

There was no response from Jackson, only his puzzled look. Mark drew closer, snatched the empty bowl from his hands, and put it on the table. He pressed Jackson against the sofa and grabbed one of the black cushions he placed on Jackson's lap. 

"Oh my god." Jackson gasped in shock when Mark laid down on his lap. 

"I told you I'm tired." 

"Mark…" Jackson's voice was so soft that it made Mark curl up deeper into the pillow. 

"Hm?" 

"You are in my lap," Jackson said carefully. 

"I know."

"Why are you in my lap?" 

Mark felt like breaking into two parts. Was he not allowed? All the years they've spent hugging and sleeping next to each other were all meaningless? It could be due to lack of space, tiredness, and craving for human contact. Jackson probably searched for comfort in his friend's presence, while Mark being Mark, only hurt himself thinking about more. 

"Am I not allowed?" Mark asked, his eyes glued to the screen without paying attention. 

The reply didn't come. Mark felt a sudden urge to run until he reached Jaebeom's door. He sat up at once, the blanket falling on the floor. The last drop of his patience has finally drained. Mark's heart officially bled out to Jackson's feet.

He was rejected. 

Mark stood up, and without a word, walked into Jackson's bedroom. He didn't bring any hoodie, just clean underwear, pajama pants, and a shirt. Mark was so out of his mind that he forgot half of the things Bam left prepared on his bed. Jackon would probably lend him some clothes tomorrow, or Mark would call Yugyeom to bring some. But If Mark wanted to walk home right now, he would have to wear his dirty outfit. Being hurt and stubborn, he would refuse Jackson's help.

"What are you doing?" Jackson was in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. 

"I wanna go home, Jacks," Mark quietly replied since he didn't trust his voice anymore. 

There was that horrible silence from Jackson's side again. "I'll give you a ride."

Wow. 

Mark's lip trembled. He couldn't stop the wave of hurt and fear that was now hovering over him. It wasn't Jackson's fault that he liked women. It wasn't Mark's fault that he fell in love with his best friend. It wasn't anyone's fault that love could cause such tremendous pain. 

"Holy shit." Mark rubbed his forehead, his hand visibly shaking from the stress. 

"If that's what you want, I'm not going to force you to stay, Mark. You know I'd never force you to do anything." 

That was so stupid. Mark felt like breaking Jackson into two and embracing him simultaneously with all of his limbs. What on Earth was this guy doing to his soul? 

"Why not?" Mark snapped suddenly, his speech sharp. 

"Why would I do that?" 

"I don't know? Just try, maybe?" 

"Why?" Jackson's chaos was blazing all over the room. 

"I don't know? Maybe to show me you care?"

"By forcing you? Do you hear yourself?"

"To make me stay with you because you care for me!" Mark shouted, "because you want me to stay!" 

"I do want—" 

"Stop being so passive!"

Jackson gasped in shock. All the words were sucked away from his tongue after Mark snapped at him and even raised his voice. Mark didn't feel sorry, not for a bit. Something inside him broke so hard that he wanted to see Jackson in the same pain. 

"Passive about what? You?" 

Shit. Mark looked away for the first time. "You're always like this. Letting me go so easily like I don't matter to you."

"Mark, this is crazy." In desperation, Jackson rubbed his face with his palms, "this is crazy." 

At that moment, Mark thought about maybe just shoving Jackson away and running into the closest passing car wearing only pajamas. He felt so crashed, torn apart that no amount of it would be acceptable again from Jaebeom's could save him. Not that he fucked up his friendship with Jackson, he even fucked up the relationship in their band. Mark was a walking disaster. 

"Can you call JB for me, please? I don't know where I put my phone…." Mark was looking around in confusion. The distress was radiating all over him. 

"Alright." 

No. Not again. Mark broke into tears. He dropped on the edge of Jackson's bed and whimpered like a child. Over a night, Mark somehow destroyed the most precious friendship in his life. Jackson was like a family, as a lover, a husband, Mark's everything, and he lost it in a few hours. 

"Markie, oh my god, no." Jackson was at his side in a second. He kneeled in front of Mark, and without hesitation, he cupped Mark's face. "What should I do? What should I do?" it was more a rhetorical question because Mark wasn't in a state to respond any other way than with his tears. 

"What should I do?" Jackson wiped away the tears, but new came rolling down Mark's cheeks. "Don't cry, please…." 

The tenderness only brought more tears into Mark's shattered heart. Jackson's palms were burning on his cheek like two branding irons. Through the haze of his eyes, Mark could only see Jackson's eyes full of worries and confusion. How Mark only wished he could stop the wave of his tears that he had been hiding successfully for so many years.

"Markie, please don't cry. Please." 

All Mark wanted was to sink into Jackson's arms and stay there for the rest of his life. He couldn't tear away the love he felt for Jackson just because his love was unrequited. He would die as a ninety-year-old man who still holds all the love in his heart.

"Tell me what to do. I do anything." Jackson leaned closer, their faces dangerously close. 

"JB…" Mark whispered. 

"No, I will do. Let me. Please don't cry…." 

For Mark, it was getting worse each time Jackson's voice intensified with worry and love. He couldn't handle Jackson's affection anymore. 

"What did I do? Why it's always me?" 

The mantra of don't cry was whispered against Mark's wet cheek. He didn't understand until the aftershock hit him with full force. Mark held his breath while Jackson's lips moved against his face, whispering pleads. Soon, the touch morphed into a gentle kiss. 

"Don't cry." 

Mark had to experience an acid trip. Jackson's actions had no other explanation. His lips were touching Mark in the shape of small kisses. Mark felt like running away again, but he couldn't move. Each warm kiss dried his tears out until he stopped crying. 

He didn't mean to cry that much and that hard. 

He didn't mean to show Jackson his fragile side. 

He didn't mean to show how much he loves Jackson.

He did it all without a word. 

"I'll do anything for you." Jackson whispered, their lips brushing gently, "do you understand?"

Mark's nose was full, his eyes red and puffy, and his throat felt like sandpaper. He didn't want to experience his first kiss with Jackson looking like a walking gay disaster. 

"If you want to go, then go. If you want to stay, stay. If you want to run away, I won't hold you. Do anything you want because I'll be here even if you shove me away and will hate me for the rest of your life. I will be here for you because you're here for me too."

That asshole. Mark felt tears in his eyes again. Nobody in their right mind would want to run away from a man like Jackson. No matter how much the rejection hurt, Mark would never hate him, the opposite. The love would only blossom more until it would fade away as the flowers die by the end of summer. 

"I would never hate you." Mark couldn't breathe properly. He needed to blow his nose. "I'm such a disaster." He pulled away from Jackson's hands and wiped his eyes from the remnants of tears. 

"Do you still want me to call JB-hyung?" Jackson asked quietly. 

Wow. How many times does he have to fall on his face in front of Jackson? It was like a vicious circle. Mark was breaking again and again. He gathered all of his bravery and looked into Jackson's eyes. 

Jackson was waiting, and the reflection of his eyes didn't say anything about leaving. Mark should make his own decision, not ask Jackson if he should stay or go. Jackson would do anything for Mark at the very end of the day. 

"No." 

"Will you stay with me, then?" Jackson asked, his face softened. 

Mark lowered his head with a silent agreement. He had no idea how he would spend the whole night in the same apartment with Jackson, but he should get used to it if he genuinely cherished their friendship. 

"What do you want to do?" 

"What?" Mark looked at him questionably. 

"What do you want to do?" 

"Sleep, probably." 

Jackson smiled, "you can have my bed."

"Seunie, no…" Mark straightened himself when Jackson stood up, "I can't have your bed."

"That's the minimum I can do for you after today's fiasco."

"It's not your fault that you don't like me back," Mark murmured under his breath. Saying the words aloud felt like self-punishment.

"You what?!" Jackson gasped in shock, "you what? What? What?" 

Mark gave him a puzzled look, "what?" 

"Mark, I thought I did something! I thought I hurt you somehow. That I said something, and yet you're angry because you think I don't like you?" Jackson covered his mouth with his palm in disbelief. 

Holy shit. 

Mark was now the one gasping like a fish. His brain worked overloaded, collecting facts and separating them from the garbage. In no way would Jackson think that Mark freaked out because he didn't let him sleep in his lap. In the history of misunderstandings, this one had to be one of the biggest. 

"Did you…" Mark didn't finish. He watched Jackson as he turned away in embarrassment. "Jia'er…" 

It had to be the worst acid trip in the history of acid trips. 

"Seunie…" Mark tried again, desperation in his voice vivid, "Seunie…" he couldn't breathe properly. 

Jackson faced the bedroom window, still covering his mouth with his hand. 

"Seunie." 

"I kissed you," Jackson put his hand down. 

Mark recalled the moment when he was emotionally drained and vulnerable. It came back to him like a bullet, straight to his brain. Kisses, Jackson was kissing his face to stop him from crying, but Mark couldn't proceed further – he couldn't cross the line he drow in his heart because Jackson rejected him, and nothing else mattered. Mark's ears burned when he touched his lips. 

"That wasn't a kiss." Mark mumbled, "only… only like…."

"I shouldn't do that?" Jackson turned around, but Mark felt too big of a coward to look at him after the disaster. His head was always full of Jackson. He even called other members of Jackson's name. There was no one else in his head. Mark has embarrassed both of them so many times that it could be a compilation by now. 

"Markie," Jackson approached him with small steps, "Markie…." 

"Seunie."

"Markie…"

"Are we going to call each other names now?" Mark asked. It was definitely not one of his best days. "Do you want to beat me in the awkwardness?"

Instead of a reply, Jackson sank to his knees and took Mark's face into his palms, "I didn't want to hurt you, but I did." 

"You didn't mean to…." Mark pretended that the touch was not burning his skin again, that he's still not Jackson's enough, and he needs another brand, this time on his bones. 

"I didn't, but I did hurt you, and I think I need to fix it immediately." 

Mark had no memory of using drugs in his life, so why he felt like on a trip? Jackson's lips brushed against his cheek again. The hot breath was melting Mark's soft skin like cotton candy. Right now, Mark would have been whatever Jackson needed him to be: strawberry lollipop, doll, Markiepooh, his angel, fairy, anything. 

"Show me where it hurts," Jackson's mouth opened into a kiss. Mark felt the tongue and lips coating the saliva over his cheek. Mark felt like his pulse could be measured only by NASA at this point because, in Jackson's hands, he had turned into a pulsar. 

"You're kissing me again," Mark whispered, his head clouded by ecstasy. 

"A boo should be kissed better." 

The barrier that held the last of Mark's sanity has been destroyed. He angled his head and snatched Jackson's lips into an open-mouthed kiss. Mark didn't let go even when his lips hurt from the pressure, Jackson's biting and pulling. He kept nibbling back and sucked at Jackson's lips. Carefully Jackson whispered and kissed the corner of Mark's mouth. He tugged him closer to his body with a smile.

"Tuan Yien," Jackson bit his lip gently, "you never cease to amaze me." 

"You're hurting me again," Mark whined playfully. 

"Yeah, and where?"

"Everywhere."