SBF- Straight Best Friend

Mark sat restlessly on the swings, pushing his feet lazily back and forth. In his hand he had his favorite car toy, dad had let him bring it to school after much begging and how bored Mark was going to be because no one wanted to play with him. Mark was the new kid. The weird one who didn't talk much, but when he did, it took forever for him to finish because he stuttered.

"Wow, that's a really cool car," A new voice said from the swing next to his. Mark's hold on the toy tighten and he nodded, not taking his eyes off the floor. "Are you okay?"

Mark give another shy nod and presented his toy for the other to see, stopping the swing but still sitting on it. "I ha-have another one in my bag, yo-you can have this one for a b-bit."

"Awesome, my name is Jackson and I'm seven years old. Your name is Mark and you are really really quiet and today is your first day in this school. We share the same teacher and she said that we should not be mean to you. Why would we be mean to you?" Jackson leans in his direction and grins a toothy smile , the gap between his front teeth showing.

They play the rest of the recess together, making up stories where they save the world from an evil that wants to rule the world. They are so caught up in playing that their teacher as to come and get them because play time is over.

In the end of the day, when Jackson comes running to him, to give him is toy back, Mark shakes his head no. "Y-you can have that one and I'll take t-the red."

He murmurs and Jackson's eyes go wide, for a few seconds and he throws himself at Mark, squeezing him hard in a hug. "Thank you, Mark, it's a really pretty green!" He shrieks.

"Y-yeah." Mark smiles shyly, cheeks bunching up because of his smile. "We can play together t-tomorrow again."

"Yes," Jackson beams. "Can't wait to play with you tomorrow again!"

-

Mark Tuan was in love with Jackson Wang.

Mark Tuan was now sixteen years old and he was in love. Mark had fallen in love with his best friend, Jackson Wang. Jinyoung says he is a coward because Mark chose to ignore is feelings for the other. But Mark is not a coward by any stretch of the imagination, he just decided to pretend that he did not have any kind of romantic feelings towards Jackson. Jackson who had a girlfriend and it was so painfully straight that Mark could not find the courage to ruin their friendship.

"Shut up!" Mark protests, pushing Jinyoung's shoulder lightly.

"You've been giving him freaking Bambi eyes ever since, it's kind of gross. I think Jackson was the only one who hasn't noticed yet."

Mark is horrified for a moment, but he doesn't show, he keeps up a straight face, while is brain is working at the speed of light, heart hammering in his chest. "I have not."

Jinyoung's laughs loud and clear and Mark throws him a french fry, just before Jackson sits next to Mark, shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow. Mark wonders if this is normal between best friends, but he dismisses the thought because this was Jackson, he was clingy and thrives under touches and attention.

"Did you missed me, Markie-poo?" Jackson shoves a spoon of rice in his mouth. "Do not give me that face, you loved that nickname."

"Loved," Mark stresses the word to emphasize the meaning behind it.

"Markie-poo?"

"Our dear Mark here, loved-"

"S-shut up!"

-

At first, Mark thought he could handle it. After all, he and Jackson were close, what harm could a few feelings do to their relationship? He would be fine, they would be fine. Absolutely, one hundred percent fine. And so they were, for the last few years, because Mark was busy, he always had something to keep him busy, to maintain his feeling at bay.

As it turned out, he wasn't fine. Mark was an eighteen-year-old, shy, weird, young man with a stutter that comes out when he was nervous. He was also, still, pathetically in love with his Straight Best Friend. Mark was painfully aware of every single quirk in Jackson had. The way he flipped his hair out of his eyes when he was frustrated. The way his smile only went genuine and full for a handful of people, Mark included.

But Jackson had to lean in and kiss his cheek. And Mark absolutely tried not to read into that at all, so he smiled and put up with it. It didn't help that Mark was becoming aware of his own tendencies with Jackson. The way he was always looking for Jackson, to touch him, to laugh with him, to smile. At night his thoughts drifted to Jackson, wondering what the other was doing in the room next to his, because yes, they shared an apartment.

The longing for a closeness he couldn't have, a want that he was never going to earn, to take whatever he was allowed and think he deserved, the constant worries about Jackson, with Jackson, from Jackson. It was love. And while he'd realized that years ago, it was still hard to be on the opposite end of unrequited love. After all, Mark was a coward because he wouldn't, couldn't, dare to risk his friendship with Jackson to see if he stood a chance with the man.

So, Mark once again tried to sweep his feelings under the rug.

-

Two more years after that, they are both on the couch, the TV playing some random movie while they decide a day to go out together, just the way friends do.

"How's Saturday?" Jackson asks.

Mark usually work Saturdays, but he's managed to get this one off. "Saturday is great!"

Jackson asks him what he would like to do, but frankly, Mark can't even bring himself to think about their day right now. All he can think about is Jackson, the way his chest rises and falls, the lingering scent of cologne, his warmth; he's always been so warm, and how his lips are parted ever so slightly as he looks towards the movie, completely oblivious to his best friend's admiration of him.

He doesn't love Jackson, though. He can't. Not like that, not in that way. He can love Jackson like a friend, other than that, there is too much for him to lose, so Mark lies to himself, because sometimes it almost works. Living here in this apartment with his best friend, someone who's so similar yet so wildly different to him is great. This dynamic they have is too perfect for Mark to shatter, no matter how much he'd like to.

So he bites his tongue and holds back.

-

When Mark opens his mouth to talk, Jackson always gives him his entire attention, hanging on every word that leaves his mouth. That's the thing with Jackson, is that everything is important to him. He's so passionate about everyone, about everything, and for all the time Mark's spent around him, he can't think of one time he's felt unwanted.

Perhaps is the wine mingling in his bloodstream or perhaps it's the absolute love he has for Jackson, but this was one of best nights out he had. Jackson is slurring his words together ever so slightly, but every letter, every word, every phrase as a special meaning when said by Jackson.

"You're the best friend I've ever had," Jackson says with a grin and Mark swears he feels his chest break to tiny little pieces, call him cliche or whatever. He quickly excuses himself and grabs their glasses to bring them to the kitchen. Mark Tuan can't seem to catch a break.

They're so intertwined into each other's everything, that Mark can never get away from it. Even if he could, he's not sure he'd want to, but he's constantly reminded of how Jackson only sees him as his best friend, nothing more. Jackson Wang is Mark's Straight Best Friend. and that . No pun intended.

He can't hide forever, though, and after a drink of water and a moment to compose himself, he's back in the living room, where Jackson seems to be dozing off, he's curled in an uncomfortable position, Mark takes pity at him in the morning and wakes him up.

"Jackson?" he asks softly, a groan in reply. "How about some sleep?"

"I was," Jackson mumbles and Mark is inclined to agree with him, he was.

"In your own b-bed?"

"Or in yours," he says, eyes closing once more.

Mark sighs, watches his head nod off to the side. "Jackson," he persists, shaking his head. "Bed with you."

"But I'm comfortable and warm," Jackson whines in reply.

After putting a whiny Jackson to bed, Jackson's bed, Mark stays awake for what's maybe twenty minutes, maybe two hours; he isn't sure, thoughts of how unfair, cruel and hurtful love is, because Jackson wanted to go to sleep with Mark before he begins to doze off.

-

Lately, Mark was stuck with a tight knot in his chest whenever Jackson entered the room. Which was horrible because they lived in the same space and shared every room, besides the bedroom. The last development was the sharp flush across his neck whenever Jackson leaned in too close because since the; I want to sleep in your bed scene, inappropriate thoughts about Jackson were in his mind almost constantly.

Jackson, for his part, didn't seem to notice Mark's discomfort and glued himself to Mark whenever he got the chance, every single hour of the day when they were together. Talked to him, questioned him, and paid incredibly close attention to him. It was the same as ever, but Mark could not think of it that way without wanting to crumble to his knees and crying a river, literally.

So when there was a knock on his door at two in the morning, Jackson did not knock, Jackson barged in, Mark would have expected everything else, minus what was going to come his way. And that was how Jackson Wang marched into his room, but for a pair of sweatpants, at two am that morning.

"We need to talk," said Jackson, sharply. He turned around, back now to Mark's bed, and folded his arms across his bare chest.

"It's two in the morning," said Mark, swinging his gaze away from Jackson's chest.

Jackson scowled. "You're avoiding me."

Mark needed a drink to have this talk. "I've been busy."

"Bull," snapped Jackson. There was a hunch to his shoulders that made Mark's heart pang. Had he really upset Jackson this badly? "What did I do, Mark? Tell me so I can fix it."

"Fix i-it?" echoed Mark. He couldn't help but latch on to how broken Jackson sounded. "Jackson you didn't… you didn't do anything wrong."

Jackson looked even more hurt if that was possible. "So, what, you're just done with me?" he snapped. "I thought we were best friends, Mark."

"We are, and t-that is exactly the problem," said Mark. He held up his hands defensively. "Ja-Jackson, this isn't about you."

"Bull it's not." Jackson's voice was a snarl. Then, with pained eyes. "How long have you known?"

Mark's chest went tight. "What?" There was no way Jackson could know. Was there?

Jackson clenched his hands against his biceps. "Don't mock me. How long have you known?"

Mark took a deep breath, and looked at his trembling hands, it seems it was finally here, the moment where their friendship was going to end. Just the thought of Jackson not being his friend anymore, of losing the one he loved and held dearest to his heart was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Mark hated to cry, he did not cry pretty, he cried with everything, big, messy tears, sniffles, and snot.

"I noticed when we were sixteen, but may-maybe before e-even?" Mark questioned in the end, cleaning his eye to the back of his hands.

"Are you crying?" Jackson's voice was tiny. "Don't cry, please, if you cry, I cry. Remember our pinky promise?" Despite himself, Mark let out a tiny wet laugh and looked at Jackson. "Why didn't you just say something?"

"Coward," Mark whispered. "I thought you didn't feel the sa-same way and I was too a-afraid of seeing your reaction."

Jackson's head snapped up and he stared at Mark with wide eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?" replied Mark, staring at Jackson in confusion. The right side of Jackson's mouth twitched. Not a smile or a grin, but a dawning realization all the same.

"Mark, are you in love with me?" asked Jackson. There was a touch of awe in his voice that made Mark frown.

"I thought that was w-what we were talking about," said Mark, slowly.

Jackson burst into bright, grinning laughter shocking, Mark. He crossed the room and cupped Mark's face in his hands. Dragged him in for an open-mouthed kiss that was half grin, half a laugh. Mark kissed back, the tightness in his chest vanishing in Jackson's brightness.

When they pulled back, Jackson was still grinning, and Mark smiled back, confused.

"What?" started Mark.

"I thought you hated me," said Jackson, he was still grinning. "Because I thought you had figured out that I'd fallen in love with you."

Mark's whole world lit up at those words. He broke into a wide grin and dragged Jackson in for another kiss. And this time, he was the one breathless with laughter and grinning from giddiness. Jackson hummed appreciatively against his mouth and wrapped his arms around Mark's neck. When they broke up the kiss, he gave him a decidedly Jackson-like smirk. Mark cocked an eyebrow.

"Now, how about we make up for lost time?" Jackson said with a laugh, pushing Mark to the mattress, climbing over him, dragging him for another kiss. "There," Jackson smiled happy and satisfied.

"What?" Mark chuckled.

"Your smile, I haven't seen it in a while." Jackson dragged his fingers over his mouth, holding the smile in place. "If I hold it long enough, I'm sure it will stick like this."

"Idiot," he said fondly, kissing Jackson again, vowing to enjoy every minute they had together, for the rest of their life.