Mark did not have a good time.

That was evident by the way he practically fell into his chair in their first class the next morning. Jackson just shifted his gaze to watch, Mark taking out his notebook but not doing much else. He simply frowned, doodling on the front cover as Jackson watched in silence.

If the teacher hadn’t been talking Jackson would have gotten up and pulled Mark into the hall to talk about it, but considering he was starting up his lecture quickly Jackson instead scribbled out a note, tossing it onto Mark’s desk when he wasn’t looking.

You okay?

That was all he’d written, and Mark turned to shoot him a flat glare. Jackson just smiled hopefully, watching as Mark rolled his eyes and replied.

I’ll be fine. She . Really rude.

Jackson frowned, shaking his head and making sure the teacher wasn’t looking at them as he read over it and finally wrote a reply, sliding it almost under Mark’s hand. He laughed in silence when Mark twitched as the paper touched him, shrugging.

Wanna get some food or something after class? Or just hang out? I’ll buy you a hat or something, it’ll be fun.

Mark couldn’t help but laugh when he read Jackson’s reply, which was complete with a little drawing of one of them wearing a snapback that just said ‘girls ’. He rested with his face in his palm as he tried not to laugh loudly, though Jackson felt quite accomplished that he’d even got the other to smile in the first place. Mark scrawled out a quick reply.

Sure. Buy me a hat.

Jackson grinned, pocketing the note and not noticing how much the simple thought made him grin. He sank slightly into his seat, staying comfortable as the rest of the day seemed to drag on forever.

“You better be happy that I’m going out with you right now,” Jackson said, sighing as he made his way down the stairs in the front of their school. Mark was close behind, the bad date of the night before almost completely forgotten as Jackson spoke. “I gave up a date with my girl to buy you a damn hat.” Mark kept his head down, smiling to himself as he walked along in silence.

There was something about Jackson that kept him calm, erased the worries, and made him smile. That was probably why he’d stayed close to him for all of these years, why they were still best friends despite all the little fights they’d gotten into. Jackson was his relaxation – he was just easy to talk to.

“You daydreaming over there?” Jackson asked suddenly, and Mark looked up, shaking his head.

“Hm? No,” he said, shooting Jackson a little grin as they walked into the store they’d been heading to. Mark immediately walked toward the wall of hats they had set up, Jackson walking behind and looking at some of the jackets nearby. “I can pick out anything?” he asked, turning to look at Jackson as he rolled a hat over in his hands.

“Did you have a ty date?” he replied easily, and Mark nodded. “Then yeah, you can pick anything. Just… Make sure it’s not a hundred dollars or something ridiculous.”

Laughing, Mark looked through a few more of the caps, Jackson eventually joining him as he tossed a shirt over Mark’s shoulders. Mark quirked his brow, pulling it off to look at it. He opened his mouth to question it but before he could say anything Jackson answered his unspoken question.

“It looks like it’d suit you. Just get it. Or I will. Whatever.” Jackson didn’t even look at Mark but Mark could tell he was smiling so he rolled his eyes, letting the shirt rest over his shoulders once again as he went through what was left of the caps.

Mark eventually found one he liked, one that was simple but suited him. He didn’t even bother to try the shirt on – Jackson knew his size. It wasn’t like he would have had a chance anyway, because Jackson snatched the shirt off of his shoulders and the hat from his hands before he could change his mind.

“I know you can’t make decisions, so I’m making them for you,” he sang, holding the hat up in the air as he walked to the register. Mark shook his head at Jackson, busying himself with looking through some of the other clothes around him as Jackson paid.

“I expect to see you in this shirt sometime soon,” he said, shoving the hat onto Mark’s head rather unceremoniously. Mark flipped the hat around so the brim as at the back, only barely paying attention as Jackson prattled on about something.

He just zoned out.

When they got to Jackson’s car Mark settled in the passenger’s seat, watching the scenery go by until Jackson snapped his fingers in front of his face.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, and Mark immediately turned to look at him, eyes wide like he’d just been snapped out of a dream. Jackson stared at him for a second, the two sharing a silence before Jackson looked away with an awkward huff, turning back to the road. “So the girl last night… How bad was she?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject. Mark was still staring at Jackson, but eventually he cleared his throat, looking at the road ahead of them as well.

“She was rude to our server at the restaurant. She complained during the movie. She wouldn’t stop talking about the theatre being too cold… She was a pain. I was not a fan,” Mark replied, Jackson nodding in understanding.

“Man, you should have just left after the dinner, then,” he said, Mark rolling his eyes as he looked to Jackson once more.

“After I told her we were going to dinner and a movie? This is why I don’t let you plan anything.” Jackson grinned to himself, parking the car in front of Mark’s house. The two got out, immediately heading to Mark’s room after saying hello to his parents on the way in. Jackson threw himself on Mark’s bed, as usual, and Mark tossed his backpack on the floor. There was a silence once more, Mark narrowing his eyes at Jackson. “You want me to try on the shirt, right?” he asked, and Jackson grinned deviously, nodding.

“I do,” he replied in a singsong tone, head resting against his hand as he watched.

Mark got his shirt halfway up before he paused, dropping it back down and turning to look at Jackson with pursed lips.

“Do you… have to watch?” he asked, and Jackson’s expression fell to one of questioning, brows furrowed slightly as he sat up.

“Mark, we’ve known each other for ages, why do you care? You’ve never cared before.” Mark looked down, not sure how to respond and instead just shaking his head at himself.

“Nevermind. Forget I said that,” he said finally, taking off his shirt as he spoke. Jackson watched, ignoring his line of sight faltering as he traced the curve of Mark’s back. He bit his lip.

If Mark wouldn’t have brought it up, Jackson wouldn’t have even done anything. But now that he’d mentioned it, Jackson was trying to find a reason why he’d asked in the first place. And he’d never noticed how toned Mark was.

“You been working out?” he asked, and Mark turned around, new shirt half on as he faced Jackson. Jackson forced himself to meet Mark’s eyes, not looking down despite the fact that he didn’t remember ever noticing abs before. Mark grinned.

“Yeah. I gotta look good if I want to get a girl, right?” he asked, flexing slightly before looking at his reflection in the mirror. “It’s starting to make a difference.”

Jackson nodded, just watching in silence as Mark finally got the new shirt on completely. He had been right; it was definitely Mark’s style. As Mark admire himself in the mirror Jackson stood, walking over behind the other and resting his head on Mark’s shoulder.

“I told you it was gonna suit you. You… You look y,” he mumbled as he took in Mark’s reflection, covering up a slight waver in his tone with a laugh directly afterward. Mark punched him as he laughed, leaving the shirt on and tossing his uniform shirt into the hamper.

Jackson had said things like that to Mark all the time, and never once had he felt self-conscious about saying it. Now he felt like he should just turn and leave the room, though Mark’s father walking in made him turn around.

“Jackson, are you staying for dinner?” he asked, and Jackson thought for a moment.

“Depends. Can I stay over and not sleep in the living room?” he asked. Mark’s father eyed him, brow raised.

“It’s the same answer as always, Jackson – living room or nothing.” Jackson chuckled, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair to push it back. He started to walk toward the door.

“You know I always have to ask,” he said, turning back into the room and shooting Mark a grin. “I’ll talk to you in class tomorrow. Text me or something. Bye, dad.” He waved to Mark’s father, then winked at Mark, not letting his smile fade until he was out of the house. That was when he took in a deep breath, both hands coming up to massage his temples slightly.

That was a weird little encounter.

Like usual, Jackson slid into his car, though he kept the radio off as he drove home. He barely even said anything to his mother, just waved and walked into his room.

It had just been some weird fluke, that was all.