Mark groaned as he rolled over and opened his eyes, immediately closing them when the sunlight poured in. Burying his head in the pillow, he stretched out.

The night before had been ridiculous, and Mark was doing his best to forget it. He had never expected Jackson to do something like that, and he had never expected himself to be in the situation he was now in. He also hadn’t expected himself to kiss back, but he was blaming it on the liquor.

All of a sudden he opened his eyes, looking at the pillow with confusion and then turning to look at the room.

When had he been moved into Jackson’s room? He was there alone, no one else in sight. Mark sat up, rubbing his head as a twinge of pain shot up. Once he recovered he kept looking around.

It looked like the sheets had originally been tucked in around him, despite the fact that he’d clearly pulled some of them out while he was asleep. Running his hand through his hair he finally stood, taking a few shaky steps then stretching. He heard his back crack and he let out a groan in relief, slipping out into the hall and then walking through the house.

From what he could tell everyone that had crashed the night before had gone home. On instinct Mark walked toward the kitchen, passing the through the living room on the way but stopping when he saw Jackson still sleeping on the couch.

Why had he slept there and not in his own bed?

Mark narrowed his eyes, crouching next to Jackson and watching him for a moment. Eventually he smiled softly, nudging the other man’s shoulder until he saw him move. Jackson didn’t even open his eyes, just groaned and wrapped his arms around Mark, pulling him close and holding him there. Mark wasn’t even sure if he was awake or just fidgeting in his sleep, but it wasn’t something he was worried about. Eventually however he rested his head against the other man’s, looking up as he tried to wake him as gently as he could.

“Jackson… Jackson, it’s after noon,” he mumbled, and Jackson yawned before muttering a response.

“My head hurts,” he replied, brows furrowed. Mark nodded.

“Mine too. Why didn’t you sleep in your bed?” he asked, and Jackson chuckled softly before nuzzling his head into Mark’s neck on impulse.

“You looked miserable out here, so I carried you into my bed and slept on the couch. I guess I’m used to it.” Mark blinked, turning his head as much as he could to look at Jackson and unable to reply.

The fact that he’d put Mark first, even moved him while they were both drunk, made him blush though he wouldn’t admit it. Mark wasn’t even sure how to react so he just sat there in silence for a moment before Jackson finally sat up, rolling his shoulders and groaning slightly.

“I feel like ,” he grumbled, hair a mess. Jackson hadn’t even managed to change out of his clothes – he still had on the shirt and jeans he’d been wearing at the party. Mark nodded.

“Same.” That was all he said, the two of them just looking at each other in an awkward silence.

It was obvious there was something that both of them wanted to say but neither was taking the initiative. Mark glanced at Jackson’s lips, swallowing deeply before he shook himself out of the trance he’d put himself in.

“I need to get home. Can you give me a ride?” he asked, and Jackson just mussed up his hair in response, nodding a moment later and sitting up fully before finally standing. He waved toward the door, eyes barely open as he grabbed his key.

“Come on. Let’s go,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

They got into the car in a tired, hung over silence, Jackson barely clinging to consciousness as he drove. They didn’t talk much, Mark almost asleep as well until they got to his house. He opened the door, gaze meeting Jackson’s and the two sharing a tense moment before Mark just waved and got out of the car, closing the door behind him. After a short wave and a little smile, Mark headed toward the door of his house, though he turned to watch Jackson drive away as he leaned against the railing on his porch.

He had no idea what he was doing, but for now Mark was just going to try to forget that that night had ever happened.

It seemed like everyone at school had a different plan, though.

When Mark walked into school the next day all eyes turned to him. It wasn’t even hidden what they were talking about. The hushed whispers weren’t so hushed this time.

“Did you hear about Jackson’s house party?”

“Yeah, apparently him and Mark disappeared for a while.”

“Someone saw them making out. What the hell?”

“That’s gross, I thought they were cool.”

The color in Mark’s face drained and he paused in his tracks, looking around and letting out a shaky breath.

Someone had seen them? They’d forgotten to lock the door, or someone saw from outside. Someone had managed to catch a drunken mistake, and Mark was paying for it. He hadn’t seen Jackson yet but he made a direct path toward his locker, assuming he’d see him there.

He was wrong.

Jackson wasn’t at his locker, and he wasn’t in their first class either. In fact, Mark didn’t see him until lunch, when he sat down almost dejectedly at a table without buying food. Brows knit together in worry, Mark took a few steps forward, though he was immediately stopped by one of his friends.

“Hey, come sit with us. We heard you were forced into the whole thing, so ignore this queer and hang with us.” He gestured at Jackson who, luckily enough, hadn’t heard him, and his muscles tightened.

He hadn’t really been forced. He’d returned the kiss, they’d both been drunk, and he could forget it. Mark glanced at Jackson, who was tapping absently at his phone and hadn’t seen him yet, then sighed and followed his friend instead.

Just for today. Today would be the only day he’d distance himself from Jackson. It was just to get a bearing on the situation.

In their last class Mark saw Jackson slump over in his chair, clearly not wanting to be at school as he doodled on a sheet of paper in front of him. Mark frowned, watching him in silence before scribbling a bit of writing onto a sheet of paper and sliding it onto Jackson’s desk. Jackson only barely glanced at it.

Why weren’t you in class this morning?

Sighing, Jackson shook his head, resting it in one of his hands as he wrote a quick reply to Mark and slid it back onto his desk.

Can we talk later? After class? I can drive you to my house, my parents still aren’t back.

Mark didn’t even write down an answer, just nodded. By the time the class ended he was so tense he didn’t know what he was going to do. He simply followed Jackson to his car, settling into the passenger seat and staring out the window the entire drive to Jackson’s house. They were inside before either of them spoke.

“I’m sorry… About all of this,” Jackson admitted quietly, Mark sitting on the couch as he looked up. He sighed.

“It’s fine. It was just a mistake, we were both drunk. Let’s just forget it happened,” he replied, but Jackson shook his head.

“No, it… It wasn’t a mistake. Yeah, we were drunk, but I meant to do it. I wanted to kiss you, I wanted it so badly. And then it happened and we were drunk and you had a girlfriend and it was just such ty timing… I feel like an and I’m really confused and I don’t know what to do.” Jackson paced in front of the couch a few times, hand absently massaging his neck as he tried to decide what to say next. “I wasn’t in class today because right when I got to school some guy cursed at me and told me to get out because I didn’t belong there. So I did. For the first part of the day I sat in a café nearby and tried to make myself go back. I finally decided to, but I was either ignored or made fun of… Mark, this is torture, I don’t want to go back.” Jackson swallowed deeply, turning to look at Mark, and Mark’s eyes widened.

The king of the school, the high and mighty Jackson, was being kicked to the bottom rung and told that he didn’t belong. He was being ignored. He was vulnerable. And he looked like he was near tears. Mark blinked.

In all his years, he’d never seen Jackson this worried about something. He was always the one that calmed Mark down when he was anxious. Silently, Mark warred whether or not to stand and comfort the other man, but eventually he decided against it, looking down.

“Mark… Come on, say something,” Jackson said after a long silence, eyes trained on Mark. Blinking, Mark looked back up. What was he supposed to say in response to that?

“Just try to forget it happened, okay?” he said softly, and Jackson let his hands drop to his sides.

“Are you being serious? How am I supposed to…” He paused, narrowing his eyes at Mark and letting out a weak breath. “Why? Why do you want me to forget?” Mark bit his lip, shaking his head. “Tell me.”

“Because it’s going to kill us at school. It’s going to stress you out and you’re going to lose all your friends because you’ll be too busy freaking out about this dumb little drunken mistake and-”

“You care more about your popularity than trying to work this out?” Jackson asked, cutting Mark off and speaking a bit louder than he had been. “Really? That’s great, I’ve only known you for most of your life, but you’d rather have lots of friends that will stab you in the back when they get the chance than talk about the fact that I kissed you and meant it. Fine. Go hang out with your friends.” Jackson started to walk from the room, ignoring Mark’s stuttering of a response.

“You can walk home.”

That was all that Jackson said before he slammed the door of his room, leaving Mark alone in the hall. Eventually he sighed, slipping outside and walking home in absolute silence. Even the people around him seemed to get drowned out, Mark being completely lost in his thoughts.

So after all of this, Jackson had wanted to kiss him. How was he supposed to react to that? Hearing your best friend tell you that they liked you was weird in and of itself, but when both people were male and you’d watched said friend go on countless dates with girls, it was even weirder.

Mark had to admit, though, that kiss had pretty much left him breathless…

Shaking his head at himself, Mark walked into his house, waving to his parents but not saying a word as he walked into his room and closed the door.

He didn’t even bother coming out for dinner.

When Mark walked into school the next morning it felt a lot different. Distancing himself from Jackson the day before had done exactly what he’d thought it would, but something didn’t feel right.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, it wasn’t ‘Mark and Jackson’.

It was just Mark.

When Mark saw Jackson at his locker, he tried to offer him a little smile, a wave, anything to get his attention, but Jackson all but ignored him, slamming his locker and leaving Mark by himself in the hall. He just stared, silent until one of his friends came up behind him, hand resting on Mark’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about him, leave the ing alone,” he said, and Mark felt all of his muscles tense. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything against it, though, and just followed him to his class.

For days he endured all of the people he was with talking down to Jackson, all of them coming up with stories that never happened, trying to make up all of these stereotypical situations that would never exist other than in the pages of some ridiculous fiction novel. They threatened him, made fun of him, and they did it all the time. Mark barely spoke that week. He kept his head down, trying to fake laughter when it was warranted but otherwise keeping his mouth shut.

A few days later, as the school day ended, Mark slung his backpack over his shoulder, Victoria walking with him and the group he’d been with most of the week. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jackson, and for a moment he turned to look, trying to offer a smile. One of the guys in the circle grabbed his arm, pulling him along as he spoke.

“Don’t talk to him, he’s just a ing ,” he spat out, eyes narrowed at Mark. Mark looked at him for a moment, brows furrowed, then pulled his arm back.

There was a long pause between them, Mark’s muscles tightened at the words that had come out of his mouth.

A moment later Mark released that tension in the form of a punch directly at his classmate’s nose.

That sent him to the ground in a mixture of pain and utter shock, blood trickling down his face as Mark shook his head.

“Don’t ing call him that. Don’t even say the word unless you wanna say it to me, too.” Everyone looked at him in confusion, including Jackson, whose eyes had gone totally wide in surprise. “I enjoyed that kiss as much as he did. He didn’t force me to. And I can’t stop thinking about it. So shut the up and stop calling him names.” Mark looked down, calming his breaths before turning to face Victoria instead. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. You’re fantastic, but I can’t.” He cupped her cheek, sighing softly. “We should probably break it off now.”

A hesitant moment later she nodded, though she looked just as confused as everyone else. Mark heard her sniffle and he looked back at the group, letting out a calming breath as he let his gaze pass by each of them.

“You all are s. Stop treating people like .”

That was all he said before he walked away, looking at Jackson with a weak smile and gesturing for Jackson to follow him. It took Jackson a second to register what had just happened but eventually he sprinted forward, catching up to Mark easily as the two walked toward his car.

They drove in silence until Jackson turned to Mark, seemingly finally finding his ability to speak.

“You punched the out of that guy!” he exclaimed suddenly, and Mark could do nothing but laugh and nod, covering his face and feeling the heat settle on his cheeks. “That was amazing. You’re amazing. This is why you’re my friend.” Mark turned to look at Jackson as he drove, noticing a smile that he hadn’t seen in days make an appearance on Jackson’s face. Now that he’d done that, now that he’d managed to clear his head somewhat, Mark noticed some things that he hadn’t ever seen. It was either the curve of Jackson’s lips when he smiled, or the creases that appeared by his eyes when he was laughing…

When had Jackson grown up?

When Jackson pulled into Mark’s driveway he unlocked the door for him, fully expecting Mark to just get out of the car and walk inside. When the door didn’t open, though, he turned to look at Mark, who he caught looking intently at him. Jackson blinked.

“… It wasn’t a mistake,” Mark said softly, and Jackson quirked a brow, about to open his mouth to speak until Mark cut him off with a firm kiss to his lips. Eyes closed, Mark let one hand slide up to cup Jackson’s cheek, and despite the quickness of it Jackson tried to stay connected as long as he could, leaning forward to follow Mark as he leaned back. Eventually the two broke apart, Jackson’s eyes opening a slit to look at Mark. His cheeks were red.

“You just… That wasn’t awkward, right? You didn’t feel pressured to… Or anything?” Jackson asked, and Mark chuckled softly, shaking his head.

It would take some getting used to, maybe, but it hadn’t felt bad at all.