Jinyoung is always smiling; teeth winking under the florescent lights like his lips are constantly holding a secret. It's the type of smile that makes you think of the sun, bright and warm but so, so far away. It irks Mark because when Jinyoung smiles, it makes you believe in all sorts of things. It stems a thought within you, as if you mean something to him, as if he cares about you. It's a cheap smile that makes everyone feel special. And that's why Mark hates it.

 

Because if you treat everyone like they're special, doesn't that make no one special to you?

 

"You're staring again," Jaebum says, tapping his fingers against the top of the table.

 

Mark didn't bat an eyelash at Jaebum, he knew he was staring. He just didn't know for how long his fingertips have been settled into his cheek, or how far his eyes drifted past the library window. Mark had come to the library to study, because studying in a dorm room with someone like Jackson,  pestering him about every little twitch in his body, wasn't going to give Mark much knowledge in anything but figuring out what parts of the human body make someone shut up if you hit it hard enough.

 

And yet here he was, his head settled into his palm, the sun skimming his face and his eyes stuck onto Jinyoung in the distance. He was playing football and even through the sweat that seemed to drip off him like a leaking faucet, he was smiling; smiling that big smile Mark could only frown at in return.

 

"You're still staring," Jaebum presses, and Mark finally forces himself to look towards Jaebum.

 

"Do you need something?" Mark asks with a faint raise of his eyebrow.

 

"Yes, a smile." Jaebum grins and Mark’s eyebrow settles back down. "I'm gonna pretend that did not wound my ego in the slightest."

 

Mark lets out a little sigh and drops his hand onto the table, his physical ed paper crumpled from the pressure of his elbow. He grimaces a little and tries to flatten it out, his palms pressing against the dents stubbornly. His professor would have something to say about that.

 

Mark goes to pick up his pen which seems to have rolled towards the far side of the table. He doesn't really know how it got there.

 

"Well, aren't you just a little mess?" Jaebum snorts and rises from his seat to fetch it.

 

"Thanks," Mark says and reaches out towards Jaebum’s giving hand, the pen sticking out between his bony fingers, only Jaebum’s grip doesn't loosen and Mark is forced to look up at him in irritation.

 

Jaebum gives him a smile before letting go, "You're welcome."

 

"What are you studying for?" He presses on and Mark’s all too aware of the fact that Jaebum won't leave until Mark engages in a short lived conversation. In hindsight there really wasn't anywhere Mark could study peacefully.

 

"Phsyc-ed." Mark answers. "We've got an exam tomorrow remember?"

 

"Ah yeah, easy peasy lemon squeezy." Jaebum sings and settles back into his chair, his smile bright and framed by his cupped palms.

 

"Easy for you to say, not everyone can pass with flying colours using minimalistic effort unlike some people." Mark begrudgingly replies, and Jaebum only offers him a short shrug.

 

"Most people have a knack for these things, just like other people have a knack for archery."

 

Jaebum wins this argument.

 

"If you're gonna show off then I'd rather you'd let these other people study," Mark says with a threatening point of his pen. Jaebum throws his palms up in mock defense and grins. "And stop smiling like that, you know I hate it."

 

Jaebum bites down on his lip and settles his cheek back into his hand, "Yes, yes princess."

 

➳

 

There's something about the sound of an arrow whistling through wind that exhilarates Mark. It begins with his posture; his feet stood slightly apart, the tension in his hips, his chin elevated and his eyes firm on the target. Then, it's the build up; the feel of the arrow between his fingertips, sliding it into his bow and going down the length of it to clasp the end between his fingers. His favorite, however, is the sound. There's the moment he pulls back the arrow, the sound of the bowstring tightening under his grip that makes him hold his breath, and then he lets go and there's the fine slice of the arrow cutting through air. It's such a faint but determined sound, and it sounds all that much better when it's followed by the quick thud of the arrow hitting the target.

 

Mark lets out a shaky breath mixed with wisps of relief and laughter. He hit the bullseye.

 

There's no one really there to see it. Since his first year Mark had gotten into the habit of staying behind lessons to work on his archery. As an international student with about eight percent capability in speaking Korean, Mark had to opt out a lot of his archery lessons for Korean language courses in his first year. It had infuriated him to be so behind, even with the coaches poor attempts in soothing him by telling him he was just missing "the basics". Now, it was just out of habit.

 

A clap opens up the silence that Mark was comfortably settled in. The sun is nearly beginning to set, and he was so sure all other archery members had already left considering he had been given the keys. A responsibility he had yet to accept with confidence. Mark looks behind him into the archery hall, peering at the weak light glowing out from the locker rooms, but there wasn't an inkling of a shadow. Nor was there anyone near the bow racks where students would usually sit in an orderly file, silently screaming in agony over the pain that would burn at their calves as they lent unto them.

 

"Nice" An unfamiliar voice calls out from the side. There's a large wire fence that borders the left side of the archers hall, separating it from the football field. It had been made relatively high so no incidents in balls or arrows flying over the fence happened. It didn't however stop the tension that would manifest between the two teams; where archers would be uncharacteristically haughty towards the football team, because the football team had an uncanny need for an excessive amount noise. Whether it'd be hooting! or cheering or even aggressive kicking, it was always enough to unnerve the archers when they're meant to be at their most content.

 

Despite this no one had ever really got too close to the fence, actually fraternizing with the other side meant a high chance of dispute. And yet for the first time, Mark is actually witnessing someone from the other side leaning into the fence,  fingers curling into the wires and a smile pressing against the barrier. The football field was generally deserted so Mark wasn't too put off by the thought of a lone wolf driven by his curiosity, however this particular lone wolf was someone Mark had wished he'd never have to fend off.

 

"I don't know much about archery but I'm guessing that was a pretty good shot?" Jinyoung hums. There's a smile on his face; the ends of his lips folding crinkles into the side of his eyes.

 

Mark purses his lips into a fine line and takes a step back, pondering on whether to ignore him or amuse him. There's a warm breeze that plays wistfully with the ends of Mark’s bangs and barely even moves an inch of fine hair on Jinyoung's strategically gelled hair. He decides to ignore him and heads towards the racks, quick but calm in settling his bow back onto the hooks.

 

"Mark Tuan, right?" Jinyoung persistently calls out. Mark hopes he doesn't notice him flinch at the sound of his name and continues on to place the arrows and quiver back in their appropriate designation. "I'm Park Jinyoung, co-captain of the football team?" He introduces himself, his face so tight against the fence that the wires make indentations into his cheeks.

 

Mark watches him from the corner of his eye, biting his lips in attempt to not laugh at the sight of Jinyoung desperately clambering on the fence to get a better look at him. It takes Jinyoung another few calls and a wail to get Mark to respond to him finally. "What do you want?" Mark says, managing to muster up the most nonchalant tone the laughter locked up in his chest would let pass.

 

Jinyoung smiles then; all teeth, no eyes, and it makes Mark grimace. "Well, if I'm honest - I'd always wanted to strike up a conversation. We're in the same physical education theory class but we've never really had a chance to talk." He explains and Mark wants to bitterly tell him that it's not entirely possible with the barrier of flesh you have constantly following you around. But instead he just nods.

 

A bird caws from above and Mark looks up to see that the sky had been dyed  a soft orange, streaks of pink flow across as the sun lowered  and the football pitch was suddenly glowing. Mark always loved how the sun hit the open space. But right now, the sun was hitting Jinyoung; his soft complexion, and shining eyes seemed to glimmer with the same orange hew and Mark couldn't look long enough before contorting his face and looking away.

 

"I'd always noticed someone here while we were practicing," Jinyoung continues on, and Mark leans against one of the beams from beside him, crossing his arms over chest as he hid his face in the shadows. "But every time football practice would finish they'd be gone. So it was you?" He chuckles softly.

 

Mark doesn't really know what to say or do, so he just nods again, trying to look at anything but Jinyoung’s face. He knows it's a little unfair to leave Jinyoung hanging because for people like him, conversation was probably just as easy as breathing and Mark tended to hold his breath a lot.

 

There's rattling coming from the fence and Mark hears the crunch of trainers meeting grass and thinks Jinyoung’s just decided to leave, so he doesn't really expect him to be there when he looks up. "Okay, I'm coming over." He declares all of a sudden, and Mark blinks at him before watching him exit to the left, the complete opposite of the football teams changing rooms.

 

"Wait, what?" Mark mutters under his breath but Jinyoung is already gone by the time Mark heads over to the fence.

 

He's not entirely sure what to do with himself, all he can think about is trying to rub off the sweat thats coated on his palm. He's become all too aware of the noises around him; the birds flapping, distant sound of crickets, his shallow breath and the ever so faint sound of shoes meeting ground. Jinyoung's wearing his studded trainers, his feet making a light clink sound with every step, and Mark gets more jittery the closer it comes.

 

"Woah," Jinyoung says as an announcement to his entrance. He's looking up the archers hall in awe, his mouth in an awestruck 'o' and his eyes twinkling like he was three years old again and just been given a new toy. "This looks so much cooler on the inside." Mark used to think that way too.

 

The archers hall was connected to the main building of the university through the changing room, but after that there was nothing modern about it. From the hallway there's the distinctive step of creaking floorboards that seem to bring you back several years into the past as you take in the open hall. It's not particularly a room, but rather a shelter that displays and holds all the equipment at one end, and has shooting ranges on the other. From the ranges there's a fine lane of grass that goes on several meters away, where at the very end a series of target boards are found. Mark loved it here, especially in the winter, where the sound of rain was a dull beat and the smell of wood was far more distinctive.

 

"You know our football team are always in awe of you guys," Jinyoung continues on, he's drifting on the far side of the hall. His hands gliding delicately on the wooden walls, fingertips tracing the ingrains. "You guys always look so dignified and cool - completely different than us. Every time we're crawling in mud and messing around we always seem to stop at the sound of your arrows."

 

Mark clears his throat lowly, "I wish I could say the same for us. But the majority of the archery team find you guys annoying." If what he says seems harsh, Jinyoung doesn't really seem bothered because the small smile on his lips doesn't even flinch. Mark thinks he's good at keeping it up.

 

"Can't blame you, we can be a bunch of ruffians." He laughs softly, and gets to the bow rack. "We probably make a lot of noise, don't we?" He looks apologetic, his eyes brows tilted slightly at the ends and Mark feels the pang of guilt.

 

"It's not that..." Mark swallows. "You guys always seem so energetic, if it's anything, they're probably jealous."

 

Jinyoung looks up then, surprise on his face, his eyes fluttering ever so slightly. He turns away from the bows and smiles, "Well then we should probably arrange for a day where we can play together?" He suggests with a wiggle of his eyebrows and Mark shrinks back a little into the banister.

 

"I think that'd wound their prides a little," Mark mumbles but Jinyoung can hear him perfectly fine.

 

"We could always challenge them then - something like...'you guys are just afraid to play against us?'" Jinyoung grins and scrunches up his nose in mock arrogance. Mark snorts a little and it earns him a whimsical laugh from Jinyoung.

 

"I'll ask them," Mark finally says, and Jinyoung straightens up from prying into the arrow cupboards and makes his way towards Mark. Who, in turn, visibly stiffens as Jinyoung brushes past him, theres the bitter smell of grass stuck to him but the warm scent of summer makes Mark relax ever so slightly.

 

"Do you think I'll get a chance to shoot some arrows?" Jinyoung asks, miming as if he were picking up a bow and placing the arrow into the slot, before pulling and letting go. "Bullseye!" He whispers under his breath and Mark feels a little embarrassed at the sight, he probably looked just like that a couple of minutes ago.

 

"Maybe another time," Mark says in finality, with a voice a little shaken as he heads towards the opposite end of the archers hall. "It's getting pretty late so..." He trails off, awkwardly scratching at his neck.

 

Jinyoung’s quick to catch on, "See you in class then?" He smiles as he walks towards the hallway.

 

Mark looks away and gives him a weak nod, not watching him leave. A couple of seconds go by until Mark hears the final click of the changing room doors before he lets out the breath he's holding. He tries to shake away the nerves but he'd always found it difficult to let go of the pulse in his hand.

 

➳

 

"So, you like it?" Jackson whispers into Mark’s ear, and it's enough of a shock for Mark to jump and slam his shoulder right into Jackson's chin.

 

"Ah, what was that for?" He wails and melodramatically falls to the ground. Mark pauses the game he's playing and twists in his chair to eye Jackson writhing on the floor. "That's it, it's gone - my perfectly sculptured chin is gone!"

 

"Shut up, it's your fault for surprising me like that." Mark huffs, but it only gains him a determined glare from Jackson. "What do you want Jackson?" Mark presses.

 

He grumbles a little, a pout on his awkward face. "I was being polite and asked if you like the game, but if you're going to be like that then I'll cut to the chase. Some friends are coming over, is that cool?"

 

Mark’s a little surprised, Jackson never brings his friends over because he doesn't want Mark to feel left out. Which is ridiculous considering Mark usually drowns in the music blasting through his headphones most of the time that he doesn't even feel Jackson’s presence in the room. "Yeah, it's cool - but how come, all of a sudden?"

 

Jackson stiffens a little, and he's got his guilt smile on. Mark narrows his eyes. "Jackson?" He cautiously calls out.

 

"Well I may...have mentioned that little thing about us have a plasma screen television recently installed." He whistles, his eyes everywhere but on Marks.

 

"Us?" Mark repeats. "You mean me, right? No way, go get your own television." Mark quickly flops into his bed, his legs sliding under the cover.

 

"Oh come on Mark, I already invited them over - they'll be here any second." Jackson whines, his hands gripping Mark’s sides, shaking him aggressively.

 

"I...said...no." Mark chokes out between shakes. "S-stop shaking me, I'll hurt you...I swear."

 

"Please, please Mark!" Jackson whines and is quick to hop onto the bed, looming over Mark in an intimidating aura he isn't even aware of. "Just one night. There's only two of them. Please!" He's begging at this point, his legs wrapped around Mark as he gets shaken vigorously.

 

"I'm going to get...whiplash at this point...please stop." Mark gasps, his head hitting the pillow several times.

 

"Only if you give me the green light." He pouts.

 

"I'm going to give you the ing fist if you don't stop," Mark hisses and reaches out his palms to push against Jackson's face.

 

"If it's come down to this..." Jackson murmurs, his hair covering his eyes and his fingers suspiciously wriggling. "I'll just tickle a yes out of you!" He declares and dives his hands under Mark's wife-beater and all hell breaks lose. Jackson's whining, Mark’s crying, laughter mixed in between his chokes as he tries to gasp for air, and not to mention Mark power kicking the air.

 

It doesn't take Mark long to give in, "I get it, I get it-" But he's interrupted nonetheless by their room door opening.

 

Jackson stops to turn and look behind him, and Mark can't focus on anything but grabbing his breath back. He's still wheezing as Jackson flies off of him and heads towards the door, there's murmurs filling the room but Mark is too out of energy to bother listening.

 

"Hey, Mark, you alive there?" Jackson calls out and Mark irritably sits up, a scowl on his face.

 

"Does it look like-" His words come to an abrupt halt when he sees a younger male and Jinyoung beside Jackson at the door. Words lodged in his throat and creeping consciousness over how disheveled he looks right now. This was the last image he wanted Jinyoung to see of him; bed hair, wild eyes, distraught pajamas, his entire belly exposed and himself entangled in a mess of his own sheets.

 

Mark is quick to jump up from his bed and head towards his closet, three pairs of eyes watching him closely. He grabs a towel and shuts the closet in quick movements. Sliding past Jackson who hasn't really caught up with the situation and opens his mouth, "Hey, Mark this is-"

 

"Introduce me later, I need to take a shower. You can use the television." Mark mutters and slips past the three of them. Glad he didn't give himself enough time to blush in embarrassment in front of all them.

 

➳

 

Mark spends approximately an hour and a half in the shower, the longest shower he's ever had in his life. He can't remember how many times he washed his hair with shampoo, or how long in the mirror he spent styling his hair. He didn't like just how flustered he'd become, so he tells himself it's the steam and heat from the shower that makes him glow a fair shade of pink.

 

When he heads back to his room, he hopes the three of them are too immersed in their game to pay Mark any attention, or even better if they just weren't at all. But to his horror, when Mark opens the door to his dorm room he finds no Jackson, a paused game and a Jinyoung awkwardly sitting at the foot of Jackson's bed. Mark quickly contemplates taking another shower to see if he can beat his own record.

 

"Ah, Mark." Jinyoung grins and Mark awkwardly shifts towards his closet. "I thought you were Jackson and Yugyeom."

 

Mark's only got a towel around his waist. He curses himself inwardly for it but there were going to be flaws in the kind of escape plain he'd roused up before. "Where are they?" Mark asks awkwardly, pulling out a pair of boxers from his drawer. He doesn't really pay attention to which one he snags but the bright red of the one he did pick makes him swear under his breath.

 

"They've gone to get snacks from the vending machine in the common rooms, although they're taking a while..." Jinyoung says as Mark gives him his back and quickly slides his boxers under his towel. It's a good millisecond frozen into an hour where Marks towel falls off just before he's completely slipped on his boxers. There's a silence where Mark tells himself not to be so conscious but he can't help feel the waistband around his hips was tighter than usual.

 

There's a tension in the air Mark seems to suffocate in while Jinyoung peacefully floats. Mark's quick in slipping on a t-shirt and pair of bottoms, grabbing the towel from beside his feet and throwing it onto his damp hair. He's aggressively scuffling with his hair as he flops onto the bed, purposefully making as much noise as feasibly possible.

 

"I've always wondered..." Jinyoung begins and Mark's about to meet his eyes but he's quick in controlling himself and hides behind his bangs. "How come your hair is red? You don't seem the type to follow fashion statements."

 

"I lost a bet," Mark answers, mildly irritated at the memory. "Jackson had forced me into a game of who-can-pick-up-a-girl-off-the-streets-quickest and he'd won."

 

"That's surprising considering you're better looking than him," Jinyoung says nonchalantly, but it makes Mark stiffen a little and hide deeper into his towel.

 

"Well, I'd had several girls approach me but apparently that didn't count, but Jackson didn't tell me that till the end." Mark scoffs then. "Jokes on him though, red hair suits me pretty well." He says with a small grin and pulls down the towel from his hair. Realising that his nerves had gotten the better of him and in turn ruined the hair styling Mark spend a good twenty minutes on in the bathroom.

 

Jinyoung's laughing, his eyes lost into half moons and his lips turning up at the edges, showing off his canine teeth. Mark doesn't find himself grimacing but instead biting back a smile. "Really...deuces on him." He snorts loudly. "It really does suit you, but I think I'd like to see you with black hair." Jinyoung says, placing his chin on his knees and Mark finds that he's let himself go a little too much because they've met eyes now, and Mark has to swallow back down his heart.

 

To his luck, Jackson and Yugyeom walk in just at that moment, and Mark relaxes into the wall beside his bed. They're carrying packets of crisps and chocolate bars in towers reaching up to their chins. Mark wonders just how long the two of them are planning to stay.

 

"Ah Mark, wanna play with us?" Jackson asks and throws all the goods onto the floor by Jinyoung's feet, whose quick to grab at several chocolate bars and a packet of crisps.

 

"No thanks," Mark says and goes to search for his headphones from under the bed covers.

 

"Introductions remember?" Jackson whispers close to Mark.

 

"I already know Jinyoung," Mark childishly pouts, feeling slightly wounded as if he'd just had a scolding on mannerism.

 

"You do?" Jackson asks with a of his eyebrow. "Well, this is Yugyeom, he's also on our football team." Nodding towards the boy throwing himself onto Jackson's bed, he's got a straight line of bangs that go over the top of his shaved side. It was almost a bowl cut but wasn't, and if it made him look even remotely dorkish, the multiple amount of earrings he showed off completely stomped out that image.

 

Yugyeom gives Mark a small nod, and Mark replies much the same. He'd totally forgotten Jackson was on the football team.

 

"And here I was thinking you two didn't know each other," Jackson spits out between bits of crisps whirling around in his mouth. "I've never seen you guys interact considering your training fields are right next to each other."

 

"Our schedules are quite far apart, though - we start practicing quite late in the afternoon because of the sun," Jinyoung answers, settling himself backwards into Jackson's bed, popping a piece of chocolate into his mouth. "Although I don't understand how you guys can start practice so early in the morning."

 

"It gets too dark for us to see the target and the wind picks up in the evening, and besides we have shelter at the shooting range so the sun doesn't really bother us in the morning." Mark explains quietly, his hands playing around with the headphone he'd managed to fish out from under his pillow.

 

"That makes sense," Jinyoung nods understanding, and Mark feels too stiff with Jackson eying him up.

 

"Mark tends to be overly...stiff with people he doesn't know well," Jackson unnecessarily interjects. "He's actually pretty loud and annoying when he wants to be."

 

"Jackson!" Mark hisses.

 

"That's odd, I would have never put 'Mark' and 'loud' together in the same sentence," Jinyoung says, smiling that far away smile of his, and something lurches in the pit of Mark’s stomach.

 

"Yeah, well he's pretty interesting once you get to know him." Jackson comments, giving Mark a little grin he wants to wipe right off.

 

"Trying to tell people I'm not as boring as I seem?"

 

"Precisely."

 

Mark throws a pillow at him, hitting him square on the forehead, and causing all the snacks in his hand to fly into the air. "Ah, my food - you heathen!" Jackson wails and dives for his crisps.

 

"I'm going to bed," Mark finally declares and slips his headphones on, making sure not to give Jinyoung a second look before he turns to his side and faces the wall. He hears someone say goodnight but Mark doesn't really register it as he puts the music louder, and drowns in soft beats humming into his ear.

 

Mark’s not entirely sure for just how long he's been asleep for, nor does he know what made him wake up. But when he turns around, he realizes it's because of the unnatural stillness in the room as he takes in Yugyeom and Jackson in a heap over each other on the bed, and Jinyoung's head tucked into his hands as he sleeps into the edge of Jackson's bed. Mark thinks the scene would be so much cuter if the three of them were a bunch of five year olds. But there's nothing really too attractive about teenage boys tangled in a messy mix of food crumbs and drool.

 

Jinyoung looks a little more comfortable on the floor, his head leaning just an inch of Jackson's feet. Mark makes an effort to shove every piece of Jackson flesh away from Jinyoung and creates a barrier made of duvet around Jinyoung's head. Mark also makes an effort to not stare at Jinyoung sleeping, or pay too much close attention to his heavy breathing, and instead heads towards Jackson's closet and grabs a couple of blankets.

 

He first covers up the knot Yugyeom and Jackson made of their own bodies, throwing a bit of the blanket over Jackson's face because it irritates him just that much. However, when it comes to Jinyoung he's a little, more like a whole lot, more gentler. Bending down on his knees, he take the thickest blanket and makes sure he's covered Jinyoung up from his toes to just under his chin. Mark’s fingers are shaking ever so slightly, but he freezes the moment he feels something soft take his hand.

 

Mark’s never really held Jinyoung’s hand, in fact, Mark has never really touched Jinyoung at all. So he doesn't know under what basis makes him feel so content the moment their skins touch. It's a fleeting moment, Jinyoung caressing Mark with his own, his eyelids heavy and his eyes too deep in dreams to actually realise what he's doing. But he's smiling a little, and it's neither far or close, but it makes Mark feel warm. A little too warm in fact so Mark quickly hops towards the bedroom light and blackens out the room. And yet, even in the pitch darkness, Mark can't seem scratch away the heat in his cheeks or the burns in his hands.

 

➳

 

"I'm really sorry," Mark says, his tone rough, his eyebrows scrunched together and his head slightly lowered. "I really can't go out with you."

 

There's a girl in front of him. A really pretty girl; her height is just perfect for Mark, her black hair long and slightly curled at the ends, big eyes that always seemed to glimmer when they met his, and a smile so bright it’s almost blinding. Her fingers are shaking ever so slightly, interlocked tightly within each other, and Mark closes his eyes to imprint the image in his mind.

 

"It's fine already Mark," Bohyung laughs a little weakly. "I knew you didn't see me that way but I wanted to tell you anyway."

 

Mark doesn't know what to say or do but clench his fists and look towards the ground. This has happened enough times for Mark to know the procedure, but Bohyung is a friend, and he'd hoped so hard that the light jump in her step meant nothing, that her eyes when they met didn't gleam like she'd fallen in love at first sight, every single time. He'd hoped he was being arrogant, he really hoped.

 

"Thank you Bohyung," Mark says finally, and it finally earns him a smile he'd craved from her; her usual teeth gleaming smile.

 

"Ah, if anything, I've only made your ego larger now, huh?" She huffs and nudges him with her elbow. He watches her leave, his eyes on her shoulders as they sag the further she gets away, his heart aching with every step she takes.

 

If only that was the case, Mark thinks, if only his ego would have been the problem with his love life.

 

Since middle school, Mark had never accepted a confession from another girl. Not since the very first and last girlfriend he'd ever had. She had always made his heart waltz a little, with the way she seemed to walk like she was constantly floating on clouds, or the way she sounded like she was almost singing whenever she spoke. He'd thought he'd loved everything about her; the bump in her nose, the tilt of her eyes, her pointy ears and her beautiful auburn hair. They had been together for a good two months, before she offered herself to him, and at that age, Mark couldn't find a reason to refuse. He's always regretted though, regretted holding her hands, regretted walking her to her empty house, regretting stripping onto her bed. Regretted dating her, only for Mark in the end to realise that the person he saw behind his eyelids when he bent down to kiss her was instead her identical twin brother.

 

Horror was his first emotion, escape was his first thought.

 

Undoubtedly over the years Mark has become accustomed to many things since he'd realised he was gay. First and foremost, the disgusted look on peoples faces' when he'd come out to them, and the second was the incredible fear that the one he'd have feelings for would realise why Mark stares at him just the way he does. Mark past his denial stage a long time ago, and after leaving high school, all he's really learnt to do was hide his feelings. Even if he wasn't entirely good at it.

 

So far, Jaebum is and has been the only person currently in his life to accept that Mark is homoual. He's also the first one to realise it on his own. Although Mark is getting a grudging feeling that Jackson is catching along pretty fast. Mark's clearly not controlling himself well enough.

 

"Popular as always!" A voice chirps from the building and Mark drags his eyes to meet with Jaebum's. He's got a pink straw bobbing between his lips as he leans against the window frame. "She won't be hanging out with us for a while now will she?"

 

"Sorry..." Mark sighs, brushing a hand through his hair.

 

"Why are you apologizing?" Jaebum blinks, and perches a leg onto the frame and jumps outside, landing gracefully in the flower bed beneath him.

 

"You trampled three plants right there," Mark points.

 

"And you broke a heart," Jaebum’s shoots back, and it makes Mark flinch. "Ooo, too soon?"

 

"Too soon."

 

"Well, you did what you had to do - it's better than ever giving her hope." Jaebum claps at his jeans, dusting off the soil from the bottom of his trousers. "You know considering you're gay and all." He grins, the chewed straw sticking out unattractively from between his teeth.

 

"Yes thank you so much for the commentary, I totally forgot I was interested in ," Mark snaps and turns on his heels, not entirely sure where he's headed but knows it's away from Jaebum.

 

Jaebum -obviously- doesn't let him get very far. "You really shouldn't do that," Jaebum says, his nose wrinkled up like he smelt something bad. "Sarcasm and vulgar language doesn't suit you, nope." He shakes his head, hair flicking side to side aggressively.

 

Mark rolls his eyes and makes an indescribable sound of frustration before he finally decides just to head back to his dorm. He'd been dropping off library books before Bohyung had called out to him.

 

"So...how are things going with Jinyoung?" Jaebum's grinning again, it's the type of grin that makes Marks eye twitch and his fingers tremble with the urge to pinch at Jaebum's cheeks till he's crying with pain.

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

"I heard you two have been talking lately," Jaebum says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "How did you become so close without me realising?"

 

"We've spoken twice, I hardly doubt we can call it close," Mark groans, kicking at a lone pebble in his path.

 

Jaebum snorts then, clearly mocking Mark. "You look like a five year old who can't get their mom to buy them a toy."

 

"I'm glad I amuse you."

 

"Why else would we be friends?" Jaebum cackles and Mark honestly contemplates collecting every pebble in their path and forcing Jaebum to eat every single one of them.

 

"My unnatural violent tendencies rouse when I'm with you," Mark warns, glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

 

"I should be honored I arouse anything within you - do you even get boners?"

 

"I beg you, please stop talking." Mark whines and slides his hands into his back pockets, twisting around for his keys. He doesn't even need to ask Jaebum if he's coming in because the second Mark unlocks the door to his dorm, Jaebum’s already inside.

 

"No but seriously," Jaebum says and flops onto Mark's bed, grabbing a packet of crisp from Jackson’s desk on his way. "You and Jinyoung? Don't tell me there isn't anything there - I see the way you look at him."

 

Something seems to lodge itself in Mark's throat; it's not like he was hiding it from Jaebum, but more like he hadn't really even admitted it to himself. "I don't want to talk about it." Mark manages to choke out in a little voice, and falls onto the bed beside Jaebum.

 

"Don't tell me you're going to do a Youngjae and just avoid him till you get over him?" Jaebum groans and gives Mark a little kick. "You can't keep doing this."

 

Mark closes his eyes and rolls to his side, curling up into a ball. "Doing what?"

 

"Hiding just because you think they're scared of the fact you're gay," Jaebum's in lecture mode, and Mark knows there's nothing he can do to stop him at this point, so he tries to sleep, hoping to drown out his voice into a lull. "Look, if you think the guys you fall for can't accept you for who you are, themselves being gay or not, then you're really not picking them right here."

 

Mark doesn't really want to respond, they both know Jaebum's right but Mark isn't going to feed his ego by telling him that. "Besides I think you might have a chance with Jinyoung." He ponders aloud and it makes Mark flicker his eyes open. "You know, like Youngjae had a girlfriend but Jinyoung...you may have a chance."

 

"Just because he hasn't got a girlfriend doesn't mean he's gay," Mark mumbles into his mattress, although admittedly mildly relieved.

 

"That's not really what I mean..." Jaebum trails off, his thought process pouring out into the box room and driving Mark all sorts of insane. "It's more like...he stares at you, you know?"

 

Mark stiffens.

 

"Like I only started noticing it when I noticed you staring at him, but he stares at you, a heck of a lot. Most of the time when you don't even realise he's there." Jaebum explains and Mark slowly sits up. He doesn't really want to hear these half-baked words, but at the same time, it'd been a long time since Mark had even a flicker of hope. "And like...you must have noticed the way he's always trying to strike up a conversation but something always seems to stop him."

 

"No, I really haven't noticed at all," Mark grumbles into his hand.

 

"Well, I think there might be a chance-"

 

Mark slaps a hand against Jaebum’s and groans. "Look, people like Jinyoung aren't the type to feel attracted to men, okay? So can we stop talking about this now?"

 

"As long as you promise not to simply avoid it this time," Jaebum demands, earning him a steady glare.

 

Mark doesn't really care that much at this point. "Whatever."

 

➳

 

"Posture." Mark simply says before grabbing Sooyoung’s shoulders, an underclass-man in his archery team, and turning her to face the targets. "Pick up your bow and position yourself." Sooyoung is quick to follow orders and slides the arrow through her bow smoothly. Mark eyes her for a moment before taking two fingers and tapping just under her chin. "Your head has to be slightly elevated so you're just seeing over the arrow, not around it." He then goes to grab at her waist and lightly twists them so they're diagonal, and kicks softly at her shins for her to space them out a little. "You have to feel the bow with your hips just as much as your hands." He tells her and she nods enthusiastically, her eyes boring holes in the target several meters away.

 

Mark looks up at her arms lastly and notices several red gashes going down her left arm, "The bowstring is hitting you, isn't it?" Mark asks but Sooyoung just keeps quiet. "Look, you're putting too much pressure in your hands." Mark goes to hit at the space above her elbows so they bend ever so slightly. "Bending your elbow would help a little but it doesn't mean you'll get the best aim as you would with it straight. But that just means you need to strengthen the muscles in your arms, and be sure not to hyperextend your shoulders. Keep your upper body leveled with your bow, and turn your elbow out slightly." She adjusts herself accordingly like a robot clicking out all the kinks. "Now, shoot."

 

She hits the target at blue.

 

"Woah!" She lets out a loud laugh and jumps back to look at Mark. She has a wide smile and her short hair jumps with her, fluffing at the ends. "That's the closest I've ever gotten to the centre." She high fives the freshman beside her, and Mark tries hard to contain his glee and quickly heads back towards the bow rack.

 

"Okay, that should be enough for today!" Mark calls out towards the archery team. "Pack up and head towards the changing rooms."

 

He'd made them practice for too long today, if it wasn't bad enough asking them to come an hour early because summer days start at four am, then it really isn't fair for him to keep them any time past dinner. It takes them all another hour to finally clear out of the archers hall and start heading towards the changing room. Mark does an equipment check and makes sure everything is locked up tightly before he takes up his own bow and heads towards the target range.

 

Marks about to take an arrow to his bow when he hears the sudden rattling of the fence as if something had been thrown at it. "Aha! You're here again." Jinyoung hollers and Mark creaks to look to the side of him and finds Jinyoung in his football kit.

 

"Yeah, well I am part of the archery team," Mark says with a wave of his arrow.

 

Jinyoung seems slightly embarrassed because he takes a hand and consciously brushes it through his hair. "Yeah, you're right - I got a little excited there." He laughs. Mark feels his eyebrows knit together, there was something off about Jinyoung today - as if his smile had been forcibly carved onto his face with chisel. Most of Jinyoung's smiles were fake, but this one...had tension in it.

 

Mark looks down at his bow and back at Jinyoung who’s awkwardly shifting on both feet. "Do you want to come try it?"

 

Jinyoung looks up with an excited gleam in his eyes, and it somehow relaxes Mark to see the flash of teeth. "Seriously?"

 

Mark was definitely going to regret this. "Sure."

 

It doesn't take Jinyoung long to circle around the changing room and come stomping into the archer's hall with those studded trainers of his. He's got a jump to his step and Mark's content with the lack of tension that was once on his face. He calls Jinyoung to where he's standing and this is the exact moment Mark begins regretting his decision.

 

Jinyoung's about a good twenty centimeters away from Mark, listening to his instructions on where to stand. "Pick up your bow." Mark says in a low voice, and makes Jinyoung turn around so that his back faces Mark. Just think he's Sooyoung, was a thought easier said than done. Because when Mark goes adjust Jinyoung's posture every touch seems to make him tingle, even when he was only trying to use the very tip of his fingers to adjust Jinyoung's arms, or his toes to tap onto the position of his legs. He's holding his breath as he whispers instructions to Jinyoung, and when Jinyoung shoots, the arrow does a steady flop right to the ground a couple of centimeters in front of them.

 

There's a moment of silence as the both of them stare steadily at the arrow sticking out of the ground. It's Mark whose first to break it by laughing out in a triumphant voice, he can't seem to hold back in clutching his stomach and lurching forward in amusement. Jinyoung biting his lip, his jaw trembling from built up laughter but the second Mark trips down to his knees, Jinyoung follows him to the floor in a heap of laughter. They're lying on the patio of the archers range for a good couple of minutes, their laughters dwindling to giggles that never seem to stop.

 

Mark feels light, too light that he ends up blurting out words he'd never hoped to say ever. "That smile is so much better."

 

That makes Jinyoung freeze before sitting up. Mark feels the impending horror of what he just said and is quick to get up to his feet, the awkward atmosphere quick in engulfing the light one. "What?" Jinyoung calls out and also pushes himself up to his feet. "What's that supposed to mean?"

 

Mark bites his lip and takes his fingers to his hair, ruffling at the red locks before speaking again. "Your smile just seemed kinda...strained before." Mark knows he has no place to say it, he also doesn't want to be the reason for the pang of pain in Jinyoung's eyes.

 

"Was I that obvious?" Jinyoung laughs weakly and bends to his knees, and it shocks Mark a little to see the happy demeanor Jinyoung had so perfectly constructed crumble so quickly. Mark's a little bit frantic on what to do exactly.

 

"I-Is everything okay...?" Mark asks awkwardly, scuffling towards Jinyoung so he can too bend onto his knees.

 

"It's silly..." Jinyoung mumbles into his hands.

 

"If it upsets you, then it can't be very silly," Mark replies in a mumble, and is startled to see Jinyoung look up with watery eyes. He's staring at Mark with a look he really can't decipher, before back down at his palms.

 

Jinyoung quickly rubs his eyes with the back of his hands, and Mark thinks he looks like a little kid. "It's just...I got a phone call this morning telling me my...cat got attacked by a fox. He's alive but I can't help but...worry." He says through his palms, and Mark can see his lips tremble before the gaps between his fingers. Jinyoung's cheek is a soft shade of pink and he's not looking directly at Mark, and Mark can't help but take a hand to Jinyoung’s hair and ruffle it up. He doesn't know what else to say or do but offer him some sort of silent comfort. He's not wearing gel today, so his hair softly glides against his palm and Mark feels them slip through his fingers.

 

"What’s his...or her name?"

 

"Sebastian."

 

Marks snorts a little. "Typical."

 

"Yeah...I named him when I was kid - I thought it sounded cool," Jinyoung says in a soft voice, his trembling fingers skimming his jaw.

 

"I'm sure he's fine," Mark pathetically mumbles and goes to pet Jinyoung on the head.

 

He's quick in retracting his hand, and Jinyoung's smiling all over again. It's a smile that makes his eyes disappear and his lips shape everything in his face. Mark decides not to grimace at this one. "You know you're nicer than people say you are."

 

"What?"

 

"Well, before I befriended Jackson, people used to tell me you were pretty hard to approach." Jinyoung says, his head in his palm. "You don't smile very often so you were pretty hard to approach. But I think you just offer it at the right time to the right person." Jinyoung gets up then and pats his knees, he holds out a hand for Mark to take. Mark knows he's staring when he looks at the lines that travel up and down Jinyoung's palm, but most of all Mark's worried Jinyoung will feel the pulse in his wrist if he does take it. Jinyoung doesn't give him much of a choice and grabs his hand anyway, pulling him up to his feet.

 

"I've always wanted to try speaking to you, you know," Jinyoung says softly, he's holding Mark's hand with the tips of his fingers. Mark has to swallow all of his resolve and slowly slip his hand away before Jinyoung notices them trembling. Jinyoung's eyes are still on his hands when he says, "Next time I'll let you play football."

 

Mark puts both hands behind his back, and snorts a little. "I don't have the best stamina and you still in archery."

 

"Aha!" Jinyoung jumps with a point of his index finger. "Are you making me fun of me?" Jinyoung’s wiggling his eyebrows.

 

"Are you....enjoying it?" Mark warily asks.

 

"No...no," Jinyoung chuckles. "It means you're remotely comfortable with me right?" He grins, and Mark wants to say no, not really but he can't help but feel a little giddy over Jinyoung's reaction.

 

Jinyoung jumps and slips a hand around Marks shoulder, pulling on his neck and bumping their heads together. Mark stiffens ever so slightly, his heart uncomfortable in his chest, but he lets Jinyoung drag me round to face the targets. "Okay! I have to at least hit the target once, okay?" Jinyoung declares, but it only earns him another snort from Mark. "Hey! Hey! No laughing, I'll do it - I can be pretty stubborn about the things I've got my eye on."

 

Marks smiling, but somewhere at the back of his mind, alarms are going off.

 

➳

 

Jinyoung, Mark found out, is a very...touchy person. There were levels Mark noticed, depending on what kind of mood Jinyoung was in. There were the delicate touches when he was feeling at his mellowest, like playing with the ends of Mark's hair (Mark liked to say he does it unconsciously but he doesn't really know), or tracing his fingertips delicately on the back of Mark's neck; leaving traces of feather-like burns. Then when he was feeling energetic, his touch was a little on the side of pro-wrestling; headlocks, aggressive hair ruffling, surprise piggy backs and the occasional punch in the stomach.

 

Either way, no matter how faint or how rough Jinyoung’s touch was, it made Mark feel like his chest was caving in on itself.

 

So when Mark receives a call from his mother that night -another fruitless conversation about how much she wishes one of his arrows comes back to bite him in the - he's not in much of a mood to feel the immense frustration of having Jinyoung play around with him, not knowing what he's really doing to Mark.

 

He pretends he's sleeping when Jackson opens the door to Jinyoung, this was the third night in a row he visited. Tonight was the first time Mark didn't greet him.

 

"What’s wrong with him?" Jinyoung asks in a low voice, his voice layered with concern.

 

"He's just tired, I guess - he gets exhausted talking to his parents," Jackson says easily.

 

"His parents?" Jinyoung’s whispering doesn't do much in such a small, cramped room. Even if Mark was actually asleep, he'd think Jinyoung’s voice would somehow manage to seep into his mind and weave itself into his dreams. "Do they not get along?"

 

Jackson makes a little huff and Mark pictures him shrugging.

 

Mark shuffles a little to keep up the farce of sleep, rolling onto his back so he can sneak peeks of Jinyoung between the slits in his eyes. His hair is wet, short strands of unkempt hair dangles above his eyebrow, water dripping down the hollow of his neck. Mark hadn't seen Jinyoung with his hair down, and right now, he's slightly regretting putting this act up.

 

"Should I leave?" Jinyoung pondered out loud, and part of Mark says yes, another part feels the edge of disappointed poking at this sides.

 

"Nah, Mark doesn't nap for long, it gives him headaches." Jackson says and Mark rolls back to face the wall.

 

"I would have thought napping would do the opposite," Jinyoung mumbles in return.

 

"Mark’s a special little flower." Mark can hear the sarcastic smile on Jackson's face, and imagines kicking it off. "I'm going to go make some ramen, want to come with?"

 

There's a pause which Mark finds himself stiffening in ever so slightly, another internal war raging where he wants Jinyoung to leave so he can relax, but he doesn't, because- well, there's not much of a reason. In the end, Jinyoung declines his offer, and Mark curses himself for not feeling disappointed in the slightest.

 

"Suit yourself, I hid two packets of kimchi ramen and half of one could have been all yours." Jackson playfully sighs.

 

"Half… of one?" Jinyoung repeats, but Jackson’s already shut the door behind him, his laughter ringing down the hall.

 

Marks staring at the wall; mind numbing white wallpaper, no grains or patterns to follow, just white. He shuts his eyes because Mark feels like he can get lost in the dark easily, but a white wall is nothing but a wall, blocking his mind from drifting away. As if it floating away were simple feat to begin with, especially with the way Jinyoung’s breathing is the only sound that fills the room. Mark finds himself attached to a cord, sleep pulling him in with every breath Jinyoung takes in, and back out with every breath Jinyoung exhales.

 

He doesn't really know how long the silence goes on for, but eventually he hears the soft rustling of Jinyoung moving. His casual jeans rubbing against the carpet of the ground as he scuffles closer to Mark. Mark tries to relax his shoulders, tries to appear as if he were in deep sleep, because in the back of his mind Mark was curious about Jinyoung. Curious about what he'd do, but not hopeful in the least bit.

 

"Mark?" Jinyoung calls out, his voice low and soft and everything that could sound sweet to Mark’s ears. "You awake?"

 

Mark thinks about replying, but Jinyoung doesn't give him long to contemplate before he feels something skim briefly on the back of his undershirt. Mark swallows a small amount of air, his eyes down-cast on his hands clutching the pillow beneath his head. He shuffles a little bit, trying to disguise the tension in his back a little bit. It makes Jinyoung recoil so Mark mummers a bit and nuzzles his face into the pillow.

 

A little while later he feels it again, only firmer; the tip of Jinyoung’s finger laying invisible tracks on Mark’s back. It's a soft and careless touch, his finger making light turns on the cotton of Mark’s shirt. But just because Jinyoung was touching Mark through his clothes, doesn't mean he still doesn't feel the weightless burns ingraining themselves into his back. His touch felt like ice almost, like when water was cold enough to make your fingers sting and beat red for warmth.

 

It isn't until Mark almost see's the lines Jinyoung’s drawing on his back does he realise he's spelling something out. The realization makes his body react and he feels Jinyoung push himself back quickly. Moderately confused and slightly frustrated he didn't pay attention to what Jinyoung was possibly writing, Mark puts up the act of waking up.

 

He groans and rolls onto his back, rubbing his eyes a little before stretching out, his hands reaching out high towards nothing but a white ceiling. He blinks a little and turns to find Jinyoung on the floor, his back leaned against Jacksons bed, hand casually slung over one tucked knee. "Morning," Mark jokes and Jinyoung looks up with a smile.

 

"It's seven in the evening," Jinyoung replies lightly. "Did I wake you? Sorry, I got bored and started writing on your back."

 

"What were you writing?" Mark asks, surprised to find his voice so thick and hoarse as if he'd really been sleeping.

 

"Mark ," Jinyoung grins cheekily, and Mark snorts in response. Despite knowing it was a lie.

 

"Mature," Mark yawns and sits up, scratching at his exposed stomach.

 

"That's my middle name," He shoots back with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

 

Mark’s about to make a snide remark before he feels his phone vibrate close to his hand, and grabs at it from under the pillow. With a sigh he opens up a text from his mother; next time, don’t hang up in my face. Rolling his eyes or mumbling incoherent curses was too much effort of a reaction for Mark to make after all this time so he just locks his phone and settles it beside him.

 

Jinyoung, however, is staring at it, belatedly curious. "Was it your parents?"

 

"Mother," Mark says and leans against the pillow he pressed up against the wall.

 

"Do you guys not get along?"

 

"Nah, we get along, she just doesn't approve of my life choices." Mark says lightly. "But it's not like her contempt is enough to keep away on holidays - I think she cried once last year, thinking I wasn't going to make it for Christmas." He laughs a little at the memory, his dad calling him as he hopped onto a bus heading towards the airport, sighing heavily before putting his blubbering mother on the line.

 

"Does she call you often?" Jinyoung asks, his chin perched on his knee, his eyes searching for Mark’s, but Marks nowhere to be found but on the ground.

 

"Yeah," Mark says and flops back onto his bed. "At least six times a week I get messages and two phone calls. If I'm lucky she does it all in one day - you know international calls." Jinyoung blinks at the last comment and Mark watches as something clicks at the back of his mind.

 

"Ah, yeah - China!" He claps and Mark offers him a little chuckle. "Sorry, sometimes I forget...your Korean is really good. When did you start learning?"

 

"Last year, I picked it up fast but there are still words I can't really get the hang of," Mark says, blowing a little at a strand of his fringe that was long enough to settle on the dip of his nose. "Jackson helped me a lot in my first year; translating for me, and teaching me on the side from my Korean lessons. He loses his temper too easily though."

 

"Ah, you guys get along pretty well, huh?"

 

"Yeah, I'm my most comfortable around him." Mark says offhandedly, his eyes on nothing but endless white.

 

"Is that so?"

 

Mark hears something in Jinyoung’s voice, but before he turns to look at his expression, the bedroom door bangs open. "Glad you're awake!" Jackson strides his way towards Mark, the expression on his face hardly belonged to a man who had a good bowl of ramen. "Did you eat my ramen?" He demands, hovering over Mark threateningly.

 

"What?"

 

"Look, you're the only one with guts to eat anything belonging to me, so did you eat my ramen?

 

Mark pauses to think a little, his mouth open. "Oh yeah... I did."

 

Jackson’s eye twitches, not because Mark did eat his ramen, but because of how nonchalant his reply was. There are few seconds before Jackson takes the liberty of ripping the cover off of Mark and jumping onto him. Mark yelps, several times, as Jackson takes the chance to dive under his shirt once again and run his fingers against Mark’s stomach; making him lurch, squeal and cry with unwanted laughter. Amongst the wheezing Mark notices Jinyoung standing beside them. He's not able to catch his expression, but he's solely wishing for him not to join in.

 

"That's enough," Jinyoung calls out and Jackson’s eyes bulge a little as his collar is stretched backwards, and he's dragged off of Mark. "Give Jinyoungie some attention." He pouts at Jackson with open arms.

 

But Jackson just grimaces and shuffles away. "Don't touch me."

 

"Oh, doesn't Jackson want to get all under my skin too?" Jinyoung teases, shaking his chest towards Jackson, who is skillfully ducking away. "Hm? You like Mark just fine."

 

"That's 'cause it's Mark, now begone." Jackson hisses with a flick of his foot.

 

Jinyoung mumbles something under his breath and goes to flop onto Jackson's bed, snuggling into Jackson's pillow. Mark’s peering from under the arm he has draped over his eyes, silently letting a million thoughts run through his mind. One in particular was flashing in bright neon lights; a question that'd answer just why Jinyoung was looking at Jackson with a scowl on his face, or why he seemed so bothered Jackson wasn't treating him the same.

 

Mark doesn't want to think about it really, but he's thinking about it.

 

➳

 

"What are you doing?" Someone says from behind.

 

Mark’s bent over a row of flower beds; his hands finger deep into the soil, his nails lined with dirt and the roots of a flower settled delicately in his palm. Mark looks back to find Jaebum in a snapback turned to the back pointlessly, a hand covering his eyes from the sun.

 

Mark goes back to tending to the plant when he answers, "A cat pulled out the flower, so I was just putting it back."

 

He hears the click of knees as Jaebum bends over beside him. "Doesn't the university have a gardener? Just leave it."

 

"It's not like it'll take long," Mark mumbles and slowly puts the flower into a new hole he dug with his hands. "Besides the gardener comes once a week so this may die before then."

 

Jaebum’s eying him from the side, but Mark ignores him as he tucks the roots in and pats the soil back to fill up the hole around the flower. "Done." Mark says finally and gets up, wiping his dirt covered hands on his tattered jeans.

 

"I'm glad you're very happy and all saving that little flower’s life but like-" Jaebum looks at his watch. "We're already two minutes late to our lecture."

 

Mark curses under his breath and quickly grabs his bag to break out into a sprint. He hears Jaebum shouting out to him from behind him, he thinks he can make out the word 'traitor', but laughs it off as he stomps into the hallways, calling out apologies as he barges into people. He makes a grand entrance, the adrenaline pumping through his veins enough to make him open the lecture hall’s door with a loud bang! and catch everyones attention. But as usual, Mark doesn't really make eye contact with anyone but Jinyoung.

 

He feels Jaebum slam into him when he notices that the lecturer is not there, and lets out a sigh of relief. Jinyoung is hissing and throwing his hands everywhere, calling out for the two of them to head towards the empty seats beside him. Mark doesn't really want to sit so close to him for an hour and a half, but he doesn't want the eyes of every student in the lecture hall to be on him for much longer either. He heads up the stairs quickly and settles beside Jinyoung, regretting his decision almost immediately because the seats are too close; his entire side was pressed up against Jinyoung, and it doesn’t help when Jaebum presses himself against Mark to sit too.

 

Mark, begrudgingly, becomes hyper aware of the entire right side of him. His shoulders scrunched up against Jinyoung’s, their arms meeting to their elbows where they had their hands in their laps. Jinyoung presses his thigh against Mark, and Mark looks up to find a smile on his face. After so many weeks, Mark thought he'd get used to them, the smiles, the casual touches, but it’s all the same. The only difference was that Mark’s patience was slowly cutting down.

 

And every time, Mark has to remind himself that, that smile does not belong to him.

 

The lecturer walks in then, and any small bubbles of mummers pop into silence. The professor takes a chalk to the board and goes into the same lull of what sounds like a medical course, rather than a physical education class, and Mark finds himself zoning out pretty quickly. That is, until he feels a warmth creep up his hand. Stiffly, he looks down to find Jinyoung’s fingers tickling the skin of his wrist, till they slip over Mark’s hands. Jinyoung takes it into his lap so he can investigate the mess with both hands; Mark hadn't had time to clean his hands after digging in the soil.

 

Mark tries to pull his hand away but Jinyoung tightens his grip, looking like he's having the time of his life tracing patterns into Mark’s dirty hands. Mark swallows nothing, his eyes boring holes into the blank pages of his notebook the lines are filled with silent pleas, wishes so that his hand won't tremble, or that Jinyoung won't find the pulse in his wrist. Mark wonders how long he'll have to do this for.

 

He closes his eyes for a moment, ingraining the feeling of Jinyoung's skin against his. The light touch of his fingertips tracing the soil filled lines of his palms makes Mark take in a shallow breath. But it's the feeling of having Jinyoung slipping his fingers through the gaps of Mark’s that makes him freeze. As if it weren't enough that Jinyoung already fills up every dark corner of Mark's mind; as if every shaky breath Mark takes doesn't hold whispers of want, or as if his heart didn't ache every time Jinyoung utters his name. As if it all weren't enough, Jinyoung has to wrap his ankles around Mark’s, press their knees together, interlock their hands tightly and settle into each others shoulders. But it wasn't enough, it'd never be enough for Mark, but it's more than enough for Jinyoung.

 

He gets up all of a sudden. There's only the soft clank of his chair so only a few eyes look up towards Mark as he shuffles past Jaebum’s legs and heads out back of the lecture hall. Mark’s biting his lip as he speed walks down the empty hallway, biting harder with every second as he begins regretting leaving a little more with each step.

 

Mark doesn't really know where he's going but he isn't given much time to decide before he feels someone tugging on his wrist. He had hoped it wasn't Jinyoung, and yet, still felt disappointed to see Jaebum before him. "Jesus, you walk a little too fast for someone who's meant to have a y stamina." Jaebum wheezes, a hand pressing against his lower back. He's holding out a palm telling Mark to stay there as he swallows every bit of oxygen to get him functioning again.

 

Mark, too, is a little out of breath but not from the walking. He swallows and closes his eyes for a moment, slipping his hand out of Jaebum’s grip. Jaebum is quick to react, and straightens up immediately. "What's wrong? Why did you leave like that?"

 

Mark holds his left arm, consciously rubbing it with his thumb as his eyes skitter across the hall. "Nothing, I'm just tired - I was going to go the dorms." He says in a low voice.

 

Jaebum scrunches up his face. "Don't bull me. That wasn't a 'I'm-tired-so-I'm-leaving' kind of exit. That was 'something-obviously-happened-so-I'm-leaving kind of exit."

 

"I'm not feeling well," He replies back pathetically, but Jaebum’s not buying it. Mark wouldn't buy it either.

 

Jaebum opens his mouth, his eyebrows pulled together in a stubborn crease, but his words are cut short when Jinyoung trips into him. "Woah, sorry." Jinyoung says quickly to Jaebum before looking up at Mark with that mirrored face of worry Jaebum had on. "Are you okay?" He asks, a little breathless.

 

And Mark feels a little disgusted with himself, that despite the fact Jinyoung is clearly worried about him, all he can think about is how much he wants to press his lips against Jinyoung’s. Mark hides his eyes under his bangs a little, the ends tickling the bridge of his nose as he shuffles back a bit. As if the sight of Jinyoung was enough to break any sort of resolve Mark had built within himself. He stuffs his fist into his pocket, crushing the packet of gum and tissues in his palm.

 

"I'm fine," Mark says again, only this time he speaks with determination, as if he were trying to convince himself.

 

He's fine.

 

"I'm fine..." He repeats, quieter. His eyes are on the ground when he sees Jinyoung's trainers take a step closer to his own.

 

"You don't look fine," Jinyoung mumbles a little under his breath. He takes another step closer. "Why'd you leave like that?"

 

Mark casts his eyes to the windows on the right. They drift off into the tennis court and past the swimming pool and if Mark focuses enough, he can see the fence that separates the archers from the footballers. It shakes Mark’s resolve even more and he turns back to Jinyoung only an inch closer to him. He's taking a hand to Mark’s face, fingertips lightly brushing away the bangs that covered Mark’s eyes, and went to press a palm against his forehead. Mark closes his eyes and swallows hard, before grabbing Jinyoung’s hand and letting it drop back to his side.

 

Mark takes a quiet breath and smiles. "I just need some sleep, I'll see you guys later."

 

Mark wasn't really expecting a reaction out of Jinyoung, so he wasn't exactly prepared for the mixture of pain and confusion that took over Jinyoung’s face. It makes Mark crumble a little from the inside, his own sense of confusion bubbling up in the pits of his stomach.

 

"Okay, that's enough," Jaebum interjects and slides an arm around Jinyoung’s neck. "Let's leave the princess alone."

 

Jinyoung is still looking at Mark when he opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out, and when he shuts his mouth again, he looks away.

 

Mark doesn't really say anything, he just watches the two of them trudge back to the lecture hall.

 

There's the sound of something cracking very faintly in the distance.

 

➳

 

That night Mark dreams. He dreams of grabbing fragile wrists, pressing them to the headboard of his bed. He dreams of little whimpers and tear drops. He dreams of pleasure bursting through him, sweat dripping off glistening skin. He dreams of love as if it were as distant as the stars. And he dreams of something crumbling, turning into nothing but rubble by his bare feet.

 

Mark dreams of things he craves. He dreams he has it all.

 

Mark calls it a dream, but he knows it feels too close to a nightmare.

 

➳

 

A warm breeze tickles at Mark’s ears and he goes to scratch at it subconsciously, his eyes closed in a light sleep. He's in the library in his usual seat by the window. He'd fallen asleep watching Jinyoung play football; he hadn't seemed as energetic today, his swiftness lost and his strategy all over the place. Mark remembers opening his eyes for a brief moment though, half asleep and dazed; he remembers Jinyoung and Jackson, playing on the same team. He remembers the faint feeling of jealousy that pricked him when they'd hug in victory, or when Jackson kissed Jinyoung's forehead aggressively.

 

He went back to sleep rather quickly, maybe because he didn't get much sleep the night before, or maybe he just didn't want to see any more.

 

The next time he wakes up, he feels something soft against his face; warm but gentle skin brushing against his own, but he doesn't really open his eyes for a while. Maybe he even drifts off for a bit. It isn't another while till Mark feels like he can flicker his eyes open, a yawn stretching out the muscles in his jaw. It's already dark outside, and Mark figures the stillness must have woken him up. But then he sees a hand by his face, laid out on the table flat, and Mark has to blink away remaining sleep to get a better look and who it belongs to.

 

It's a little embarrassing to think that his heart literally jumps when he sees Jinyoung’s face on the table, his mouth open and eyes fluttering a little. Mark decides to stay there for a while, his face, too, laid on it's side as he stares at the lines of Jinyoung’s face. He hadn't seen it this close in a while - guiltily, Mark has been avoiding him whenever he gets the chance. It wasn't a pre-planned decision, but one that came with understanding that the chains Mark put on himself were beginning to erode.

 

So he really, really, can't help himself when he takes a hand and ghosts his fingertips just over Jinyoung's eyebrows. He traces it down into the dip of Jinyoung’s nose till the tip, never really touching him but feeling his breath against his palm anyway. Mark wants to laugh a little bit, hysteria building up inside, when he thinks that this, this is the closest he can ever go. This close and yet Mark can't go any further, as if the unanswered question Mark has been holding inside was this very thin barrier before feeling or breaking. It was all a bit of a sick joke, to be this close and not feel very close at all.

 

Mark reaches Jinyoung’s lips then, his eyes boring into the lines that meet at the parting - they have a faint pink to them and Mark wonders if they taste like candy. He bites his lip then, knowing they'd taste nothing but hot and wet, and somehow that only makes Mark more eager to trail his tongue against them. He's so focused on Jinyoung’s lips that he's not really aware of the fact that Jinyoung is awake. His eyes peer at Mark curiously, and Mark drops his hand quietly.

 

"Morning," Jinyoung whispers, his eyes disappearing into a smile filled with teeth, and Mark shrinks his hand back.

 

"Morning," Mark replies roughly.

 

They both stay there, their faces against the table. Mark doesn't really want to move, doesn't want to find a ridiculous reason to avoid him again.

 

"I've missed you," Jinyoung says all of a sudden, and Mark takes in a sharp breath when Jinyoung finds the hand he hid away. "You've been so busy the past week." He whispers with a small pout on his lips, his thumb rubbing against Mark’s wrist.

 

Mark doesn't let out anything but a pathetic hmmmm.

 

Jinyoung straightens up all of a sudden, his grip on Mark growing tighter as he pulls his hand towards him. Mark’s watching Jinyoung’s face, his eyebrows pulled together as he tugs on Mark’s sleeve, and exposes his wrist. Jinyoung looks up then, his eyes held a hint of anger. "Why do you have so many wounds?" Jinyoung asks, his voice demanding and a little shaky.

 

Mark blinks a little before looking down at his wrist, the sight of red gashes going across the white skin a jarring sight to say the least. He quickly brings down the sleeve of his shirt and tucks his hands in-between his legs. "Archery-"

 

"I know it's archery, but I've just never seen your wrists that bad," Jinyoung mutters.

 

"I've just been practicing longer hours recently and forgetting to bandage them up." Mark mutters back, scratching the back of his neck consciously.

 

Jinyoung’s frowning deeply, and Mark doesn't like it, so he let's Jinyoung take his hands back to measure the damage in more detail. "Does it hurt?" He questions as he faintly caresses the wounds. He doesn't even let Mark answer before he takes Mark’s hand, bending it at the wrist so he can take it up towards his lips, where he kisses the gashes gently. Mark visibly trembles and gasps a little, making Jinyoung look up at him with a look in his eyes Mark's too enthralled with to figure out. Jinyoung lets his eyes fall back down to the wounds where he kisses them again, firmer this time, his eyes closed.

 

Mark bites his lip and quickly snatches his arm away. It's a violent type of movement that startles Jinyoung. But Mark’s mind is too jumbled, too blank, too everything and nothing to even think properly. "You need to stop doing these kind of things," Mark says quietly.

 

Jinyoung straights up, his eyes still on Mark’s wrist when he replies,"What...kind of things?" He says it cautiously. It's in his voice, the fact that he knows what Mark is talking about, and it sets alight an anger Mark didn't realise was in him.

 

"That!" Mark snaps and points to his lip. "Kissing me, touching me, hugging me, clinging to me, holding my hands - you need to stop." He's almost hissing, but it suddenly dies down when he sees the solemn look on Jinyoung’s face.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about..." Jinyoung mutters. "I'm like that with everyone."

 

That’s where it hits Mark the hardest, because Mark knows. Mark knows he's nothing special to Jinyoung. From day one, he's known. He's always, ing, known. That, that smile didn't belong to him any more than it belonged to a passerby on the street; that those hugs or kisses were just the same as if they were for Jackson, that the way he stared at him like he meant something, anything, was just a knack Jinyoung had. A knack to make you feel special, when you meant nothing.

 

Mark gets up, his chair clattering backwards with a loud clank. He doesn't bother to put it back and instead heads towards the exit. He gives a nod to the librarian before leaving, and starts making a fast route to his room where he can just hide under his covers and never come back out. But Jinyoung wouldn't just let that happen, no, he had to chase after him.

 

"I don't understand," Jinyoung shouts across the hall, and it's the loudest Mark’s ever heard his voice. "I don't understand." Jinyoung repeats in a softer tone and stomps his way to Mark who’s just staring at him. He goes to reach for Mark’s hand again, but he's quick to retract this time. Jinyoung obviously looks hurt but tucks his own hand into his pocket.

 

"What?" Mark mutters, irritation clearly layered into his voice.

 

"Aren't we friends?" Jinyoung mumbles, his head hanging and his eyes falling towards the ground. "We're friends aren't-"

 

"I'm gay," Mark declares, and bites his lip back instantly. He hadn't planned to ever say it, to say the words that were so close to ruining everything. But Mark was already dancing on a fine line, what's a little more risk?

 

Jinyoung looks up with a type of expression that doesn't really say disgust, but not nonchalance either. "What...?"

 

"I'm gay, Jinyoung," Mark sighs, slyly taking a step back with hopes to hide his shaking fingers behind his back.

 

"What's that got to do-"

 

"It means to what you'd consider doing to just a friend," Mark interrupts, wanting to get out every word before his new found courage crumbles. "Is what I'd do with a lover, a guy."

 

"I know what being gay means," Jinyoung snaps. "So what? What are you trying to say?"

 

“That you should stop-”

 

“What? Being friends? Hanging out?”

 

Mark looks away, hoping the darkness and his bangs shields his eyes. "If that's what you want."

 

There's a short silence between them then. It's not awkward or uncomfortable but rather it's a very simple quiet, one where something final has been decided. Mark counts to sixteen in his head before he hears Jinyoung take a step, and another, and another before he walks right past, a shoulder bumping against his own and Jinyoung is heading further and further away.

 

Mark knew this would happen; there's nothing for him to be upset about him. This was normal. Being gay, it wasn't normal for others. They'd be too conscious around him. It's better this way, Mark gets it. Mark understands.

 

It's all okay, because Mark’s used to it. He's used to the pain.

 

➳

 

"I said lift your arms higher!" Mark scolds, making the younger archers jump a little. "How do you think the arrow is meant to get to the target when you can't even see it."

 

The row of them stiffly straighten their backs and lift their arms at an aching height, but Mark doesn't really care. "Pull." Mark says. "Shoot!"

 

They all follow him, their hands shaking as they pull on the tight bow string. Arrows fly, most of them land head first into the grass while only one barely hits the target. There's an irritation in Mark and it growing with every arrow he sees flop to the ground pathetically. He claps again and peers at the shortest distance, his eyes landing on one of the late comers.

 

"Jungkook!" Mark hollars, his lips pursed into a thin line. The boy turns around. He has a pretty face that only irritates Mark even more. "Go pick up all the arrows on the grass." He commands, and Jungkook looks behind him to see a good fifty scattered on the targets and around.

 

"Everyone else, expect an extra hour of training for the rest of the week. If you don't show up, consider yourself kicked off the team." Mark states simply, and turns around towards the seniors who've been sitting by the bow racks. He can hear sighs escaping from behind him, so he turns slightly, and feels satisfied to see them all turn to stone.

 

"Don't you think you're being too harsh on them?" Taehyung asks with a sympathetic face, his eyebrows tilted slightly at the ends.

 

Mark doesn't really answer him, there wasn't much to say to the truth.

 

He goes to open doors to the arrows, and does a number count. He hears the faint sound of a football being kicked in the background and it makes him shut the cabinet doors with a loud bang. Everyone in the archers hall flinch and turn to look at him but he's just staring at the door handle, reflecting a face contorted in frustration. "Taehyung..." Mark calls out.

 

"Y-yes?"

 

"I'm going to the dorms, take over." He declares and heads towards the changing rooms.

 

Mark’s at his lockers, staring aimlessly at his nametag and contemplates whether he's really bothered to strip out of his hakama and tabi. The archery kimono was pretty comfortable to a certain degree, he could just go home and sleep in it.

 

Something hits the side of the changing room. It's the sound of a football smacking against the thin brick wall. Mark almost thinks it's on purpose, and angrily slips out of his kimono, throwing it into his locker. It'd been almost a week since he'd last seen Jinyoung. It was unnerving to say the least. Mark never thought he'd find himself missing him this much. It had never been like this before, not with Youngjae, and definitely not with all the others before him. Mark had gotten used to craving something he knew he'd never had, and learnt to accept the finality of it just as fast.

 

Mark thought about it at night; was it because he thought there was some sort of hope in Jinyoung? Either way, it didn't matter, he was just the same.

 

But was he?

 

Another hit to the side of the wall makes Mark jump alongside the rattling lockers. He closes his eyes briefly and takes several deep breaths before putting on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Mark can hear laughter erupting from the archers hall, and almost regrets being too tough on them.

 

When Mark opens the door to his dorm room, he hopes for his bed and silence, and a long, long sleep. Instead, he gets Jaebum, lounging around like it’s his room. Mark drops his bag onto the floor and sits on the end of the bed, peering over at Jaebum who’s lying on his bed with one of Jackson’s magazines.

 

"What are you doing?" Mark asks, a small yawn escaping his lips.

 

"Ambushing you," Jaebum states and snaps the magazine shut to sit up straight.

 

"Can't it wait till later?" Mark yawns again and flops onto his back. "I want to sleep."

 

"And I want girlfriend with size f s but we all can't get what we want, can we?" Jaebum snaps back, and Mark notices the anger in his voice enough to sit up straight.

 

"What's your problem now?"

 

"You."

 

Mark stares at him from the side; he wonders if falling in love with Jaebum would have been easier, but then he remembers who Jaebum is, and brushes the thought away.

 

"I heard what happened with Jinyoung," Jaebum says, and Mark looks down. "Well actually I asked him because knowing you, you wouldn't have said in the first place."

 

"And what? What do you want?"

 

"To knock-" He kicks Marks side. "some sense into you."

 

"What sense? I was clearly rejected. What more do you want from me?" Mark snaps back, rubbing at his hip.

 

"Rejected? Is that what happened?" Jaebum scoffs. "Did you really confess? 'Cause that isn't what I heard."

 

"I did!"

 

"What were your words, exactly." Jaebum demands and it makes Mark pause for a second.

 

"I-I told him I was...gay," Mark says, and out loud it sounds incredibly stupid.

 

"And...?"

 

"And that's it."

 

"You've got to be kidding me," Jaebum huffs into his hands. "Is that what you consider a confession?"

 

"He must have understood - he looked like he understood..." Mark was starting to feel more and more unsure of himself, rubbing consciously at his wrist.

 

"Dude, do you think girls are gonna understand you like them when you go, ‘Hey, I'm straight’," Jaebum says with a face that just screams 'stupid'. "Do you think no one is ever as insecure as you? That'd they'd understand even without you saying it?"

 

"No...that's not it, I just assumed-"

 

"Assumed what? He's like the rest?"

 

"No...it's because he isn't, that I was afraid. Because he's nothing like anyone I've ever met and yet- look, he made it pretty clear. He told me we were just friends." That memory burned like someone had pressed molten metal against the side of Marks head.

 

“And you didn’t tell me him you’re completely ed over him?” Jaebum interjects. “People don’t say what they mean, and most certainly not what they think. But even if he does just think of you as a friend, do you think it’s fair not to tell him the truth?”

 

Mark sighs and rolls to his side, clutching the covers close to him. “You’re sounding real inspirational for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend in the past two years.”

 

“Shut up, if this was about me we’d be here for years,” He laughs and falls back onto the bed.

 

“Anyway I think he has a thing for Jackson,” Mark grudgingly mumbles.

 

“Are you ing kidding me? Jackson, of all people?”

 

“I don’t know...it’s like he gets jealous over him when we’re close.” Mark ponders, and it earns him a snort.

 

“What made you think it’s over Jackson?” Jaebum croaks. “I’m starting to wonder if you’re really modest or just oblivious Mark.”

 

Mark shuts his eyes, “I’d rather be oblivious my whole life then feel like this.”

 

“Such a little prissy,” Jaebum says and kicks Mark’s shin. “Get off your and do something. I swear to god, I don’t know how I became your moral support. You were only meant to be an accessory to make me look cool.”

 

Mark chuckles softly and turns to face Jaebum, "Thanks."

 

Jaebum looks back at him with a grin before grabbing Mark’s face to peck him on his lips. "Anything for my princess."

 

Mark blinks at him, "What?" Jaebum says smirking. "I've always wanted to try that."

 

➳

 

Jaebum had lied to him.

 

It wasn’t about what they had to talk about the other night, but rather what he’d said this morning, when he barged into Mark’s room. Usually, Mark would have ignored him, and hid under his pillow, trying to catch up on sleep he lost. But today, there was something jittery about the way Jaebum had flung the door, how breathless he was, and how there wasn’t a single light tone found in his voice when he spoke.

 

It had been raining the night before, Mark remembers the faint of sound of thunder in the distance as he drifted to sleep. Jinyoung had apparently went up to the field early in the morning to practice by himself. Everything after that was a jumble of sounds and attempted words pouring out of Jaebum’s mouth. Mark didn’t have to really think; he simply threw on the clothes he had worn yesterday, and made his way to the medical centre.

 

The medical centre was a small building on the east of the university, about a ten minute walk from the dorms. It was specifically for those taking a course in sports medicine, as well as an infirmary for the students that wounded themselves during training and activities.

 

Mark had only been there once in his freshman year. He can’t remember how, but he had pissed off the captain at the time, and was told to pick up the stray arrows from the shooting range. A senior at the very end had been practicing with his earphones in and didn’t notice Mark until he shot his arrow, cutting the flesh of Mark’s lower calf. Nothing had been permanent, and it wasn’t like Mark was a runner, but there was somehow the small fear that it would affect his archery one way or another. It didn’t. All the arrow had left now was a scar and the suffocating feeling that Mark really had nothing but archery.

 

Mark is soaked to the bone by the rain, his throat dry and his lungs on fire when he hurries his way through the revolving doors. He heads toward the reception where Bohyung was on her shift; her face seems to brighten a little when she meets eyes with Mark’s, but the glimmer dwindles just as fast when Mark asks what room Jinyoung is in.

 

She's about to say something else, but Mark has already headed up the stairs, taking two at a time. He hadn't known if the feeling of his heart banging against his chest was from the running, or from the fear that shuddered through him every couple of seconds. He's running down the cramped hallway now; medical equipment, wheelchairs, and beds laid scattered messily, along with people in crutches and students in lab coats. The room had seemed so far away, until he had reached it.

 

Which leaves Mark to right now, standing by the curtains around Jinyoung's bed in a small room filled with four other patients. He's sitting up and staring outside towards nothing really, not with the amount of rain and mist that seems to fill the skies. Mark lets out a sigh of relief, and shudders again, realizing just how cold he is in a tank top and jogging bottoms.

 

"Jesus," Mark stumbles a little, and eyes the stool by Jinyoung’s bed.

 

"Mark?" Jinyoung calls out, and he looks moderately surprised.

 

"I'm just gonna-" He wheezes. "Sit here."

 

Jinyoung’s eyes follow Mark as he drags his feet to the stool, flopping onto the seat with a heavy sigh. His shirt is clinging to his body, and water is dripping off the ends of his hair; the rain had made it almost look black. Mark takes the back of his hands and wipes at his forehead, not knowing what was sweat or water.

 

"What are you doing here?" Jinyoung asks. His voice his thin, as if he weren't really sure how to talk to Mark.

 

"I heard...you were injured-"

 

"And ran here? It's only a mild sprain," Jinyoung snorts a little, but Mark only feels his shoulders sag lower. He inwardly curses Jaebum, wondering where the outburst of acting talent suddenly came from. "Look at you...you're soaking wet." Jinyoung says sympathetically and throws his own blanket over Mark’s bare shoulders.

 

"I'm fine...I'll just get going," Mark says, but Jinyoung quickly reacts and puts a hand on Mark’s knees.

 

He's quick to retract them. "Stay, I've been so bored the past hour."

 

Marks sniffs and stays in his place. A moment of silence passes, nothing but the sound of the other patients sleeping, and softly murmuring to each other fills the room. Mark doesn't really know where to look but at his chipped fingernails. He'd suddenly gotten into the habit of biting at them.

 

"Do you mind closing the curtains?" Jinyoung asks. "I don't like how white this place is."

 

Mark nods, and takes a hand behind him to flick at the blue curtains. They're by the windows, so everything seems to drown into a grey hew when Mark shuts away the rest of the room. It makes Jinyoung look paler. Mark really hadn't learnt his lesson despite all this time he had spent away from Jinyoung to learn to control himself; he still found himself wanting to brush at the skin of Jinyoung’s cheek, to nibble at his bottom lip, to kiss him feverishly.

 

"I didn't think you'd come see me of your own free will," Jinyoung suddenly comments, looking outside again.

 

"What are you talking about?" Mark says. "You're the one that doesn't want to see me." There's a bitterness to his tone, accusatory almost, and Mark bites his lip in hopes that Jinyoung doesn't catch it. He's smiling though, so Mark thinks he did.

 

"What makes you think that? You're the one that clearly drew a line..." Jinyoung says, looking down. He's trying to smile, his lips twitching ever so slightly, as he twiddles his thumbs. Mark stares at him, wondering if this is how Jinyoung contains an irritance that's clearly growing within him. He's also wondering if there's a rather big misunderstanding between them. "You don't like me, right?" Jinyoung laughs lowly, he looks up at Mark with a smile so forced it makes Mark’s own cheeks ache.

 

So, there was a bit of a misunderstanding.

 

"W-what..." Mark’s a little too baffled to even form a coherent response. How could they have gotten two so completely different conclusions?

 

"I kinda figured from the beginning," Jinyoung continues, looking away as if he couldn't hold the smile any longer. "You didn't like it when I touched you. You always liked to keep your distance - I mean, I thought you were just shy and quiet but around...Jackson...you're different." His voice gets quieter as he goes on, and Mark blinks once, twice, before clicking together the type of image Jinyoung made up in his head.

 

Mark makes a disgusted type of sound, "Do you think I like Jackson?"

 

Jinyoung looks up at him with big eyes, not really sure how he's supposed to take that question. "I mean...don't- you guys are so touchy, and you seem so comfortable around each other- I thought?" Jinyoung blinks, a small pout on his lips, and Mark finds it incredibly adorable. Then he suddenly thinks about pressing his own lips against that pout and it's not adorable anymore.

 

"I'm comfortable with Jaebum too..." Mark suggests, looking up from his eyelashes. "Doesn't that mean I don't see Jackson that way?"

 

Jinyoung blushes and looks away quickly. Mark suddenly feels all jittery, like he can't sit still.

 

"So you don't like Jackson?" Jinyoung asks for clarity.

 

"Even as a friend, I don't like him much..." Mark mumbles.

 

"Then, what about me?" Jinyoung asks quickly, suddenly excited. "You, you like me, right?"

 

Mark’s not really sure how or in what way Jinyoung is asking, and he think it's a little unfair. He’s almost a little irritated to be asked that with such an innocent face. It meant he really didn't get it at all. Mark’s seriously hating how right Jaebum is at this point.

 

"Yeah...I do," Mark replies eventually, and it almost hurts to see Jinyoung’s eyes light up so much. He's wearing that same stupid smile again, the one where his eyes crinkle in giddiness and are filled with so much hope. Mark’s fingers itch to rip it off. Instead though, he rises from his stool on the side and goes to sit closer to Jinyoung on his bed.

 

"Thank...god..." Jinyoung laughs. He drops his head into Mark’s shoulder, and Jinyoung's cheeks feel so warm against his cold skin. Mark watches Jinyoung as he shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply, sniffing a little at the damp ends of Marks hair. "You smell of the rain." He whispers against Mark's skin, and presses his lips against the side of his neck.

 

Mark laughs a little, completely flabbergasted by how easy it is for Jinyoung to come back like nothing had happened; like Mark hadn't said anything at all. As if their fight was nothing but a petty argument stemmed from a simple misunderstanding. Mark feels it again, that same anger he's been containing deep in his chest. "Jinyoung..." Mark groans lowly and takes a hand to grip Jinyoung’s upper arm. "Jinyoung." He repeats, firmer.

 

Jinyoung shifts back slowly, and Mark instantly feels cold all over again. "What's wrong?"

 

"Jinyoung...." Mark calls out again and bends down to press his forehead against Jinyoung’s. "Do you like me?"

 

Jinyoung looks up at him for a moment and there's a small tint of pink to his cheeks before he replies. "Yes." He purrs.

 

"Good, because I like you." Mark whispers, the last word barely slipping past his lips before he kisses Jinyoung. He pecks him once, twice, three times, before pulling back. "But our likes are different, aren't they?" He says and pulls back to stare at Jinyoung, he's no longer smiling, and it makes Mark feel a little hysterical.

 

"What the ..." Mark hears Jinyoung breathe but it's not much of a shock compared to the sight of seeing Jinyoung to flick his head up to glare at Mark.

 

"Jinyoung-" Mark attempts to call out but Jinyoung slaps a hand onto Mark’s mouth; his palm against Mark’s lips, and his nails digging harshly into Mark’s cheek. He winces a little in pain as Jinyoung tightens his grip with every second passing by. "When you said you were gay...this is what you meant?" He asks, his eyes circling the floor, wracking his brain for sense. Mark nods under his hand, and it makes Jinyoung weaken his grip, but only a little bit.

 

Mark’s not really sure what kind of reaction Jinyoung was having; he thinks Jinyoung was having trouble deciding that for himself too. "I'm not gay," Was apparently the quickest and smartest response to come out of Jinyoung's mouth. "At least-" Mark cuts him off and laughs a little, getting up off the bed.

 

"Yes, well It's not like I expected much anyway," The words come out harsher than Mark intended, but then again he was rejected, so it's not like anything mattered now.

 

Jinyoung grabs his hand, "What's that supposed to mean?" Jinyoung angrily looks up, a scowl embedded on his face.

 

Mark narrows his eyes down at Jinyoung, and slowly slips his hand out of Jinyoung's grip. "It means people like you just aren't gay."

 

He scoffs a little, and it annoys Mark way more than it should. "What? Suddenly there's a type of gay person? Who are you to decide that for me?"

 

"You just said you weren't," Mark snaps back, and Jinyoung cringes back like Mark had raised his hand to hit him.

 

"I didn't mean it...I mean- I did say that but, that's-" Jinyoung’s thoughts are slipping through his lips, broken sentences and heavy breathing mixing together. Mark turns to leave but Jinyoung grabs at his jogging bottoms. "Mark you can't just leave."

 

Mark looks down at him; there's the dirty feeling of contempt filling up in him, and he just wants to leave before he says something he regrets. "I heard what I needed to hear Jinyoung, let go." Mark mutters, and takes a step away, and another.

 

"Mark!" Jinyoung shouts, his voice shaking with anger. "Mark!" He yells again, but this time it's followed by a loud huff and the sound of metal hitting metal loudly. Mark looks back to find the stool he was sitting on rolling from underneath the curtains, it's metallic legs making a loud clanking sound.

 

Mark doesn't know what to make with this reaction, he thinks Jinyoung doesn't understand it himself either. So, Mark decides to leave, hoping Jinyoung clears out the grey clouds soon.

 

➳

 

Mark’s on his bed, flicking through the pages of a magazine Jackson left lying around; it's the same one Jaebum was reading by the evident playboy bunny girl on the cover. He stares at the braless girls, posing ally, some with their fingers in their mouth, some with their fingers...elsewhere. Mark thinks squinting will help him understand the attraction. It's not like he didn't like the idea of s, they seemed so soft, but any further than that...and it's a guy appearing before Mark’s eyes.

 

He shuts the magazine and throws it to the floor, turning to his side to hug his covers. Mark groans a little into his pillow, the thought of Jinyoung getting off over pictures like these makes him feel both hot and a little annoyed. He's biting into his pillow in frustration when he hears the front door click open, and turns to see Jackson walking in, drying off wet hair with a towel.

 

"You going to take a shower?" Jackson asks and drops onto his bed, shuffling back to lean against the wall.

 

"No, I'm tired," Mark yawns. "I'm going to take a nap-"

 

"I was wondering," Jackson quickly interjects. "How come Jinyoung hasn't come over?"

 

Mark keeps his eyes closed when he answers him, "I don't know."

 

"Did you guys have a fight or something?"

 

"Not really."

 

"So, you broke up then?"

 

"No- wait, what?" Mark opens his eyes to give Jackson a incredulous look. "Break up? What are you talking?"

 

Jackson blinks, "Weren't you guys going out?"

 

"No, we weren't," Mark sits up. "What gave you that idea?"

 

"You guys obviously had the hots for each other." Jackson shrugs as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet.

 

"ing straight people," Mark grumbles and flops into his pillow. He opens his eyes all of a sudden as a realization dawns on him. "Wait, you know I'm gay?"

 

"I've known since Youngjae happened, Mark," Jackson shakes his head, a pitiful look on his face. "You're not very good at hiding it."

 

Mark feels like throwing a cushion at Jackson, but knows its just him wanting to take his irritation out on the next stupid thing. He decides to do the smart thing and head to bed, reaching out for his lamp before Jackson opens his big mouth again. "So, did you reject him?" He asks, and midway to reaching his light switch, Mark lands back into his pillow.

 

"No, he rejected me," Mark groans, feeling like this was just a repeat of a conversation he had with Jaebum. "Can I go to sleep now?"

 

"Why would he reject you?" Jacksons thinks aloud, he says it because he knows it's going to bother Mark.

 

"Other than the fact he's straight, why would he I wonder?" Mark replies sarcastically.

 

"But he was always watching you, you know? After practice when you'd stay behind, Jinyoung would opt out of a match to just watch you shoot arrows. I'll admit some rookies joined him sometimes, so I thought it wasn't a big deal. But then sometimes when you were by the library window, he'd always stray over there during breaks-" Mark puts a palm up to stop Jackson, his other hand scratching at his forehead.

 

"You guys really give hope to the wrong people at the wrong time," Mark sighs and rubs at his eyes.

 

"Hope?" Jackson scoffs. "Hope is just an excuse to not move. Always looking for a chance, never doing anything about it. You're just scared."

 

Mark scowls, "What's wrong with being scared?"

 

"Nothing, until you start blaming your cowardice self on other people."

 

Mark brushes a hand through his hair, feeling strands stick up. "You guys really know how speak inspirational when it counts."

 

"I think Jinyoung has been having a hard time these days," Jackson says, his voice sounds almost solemn. "He hasn't been concentrating on football at all, and the couch is so close to putting him on the benches for the next month."   

 

"And why is this my fault?"

 

"Because it's obviously about you," Jackson suggests, and Mark narrows his eyes.

 

"I really don't think so," Mark sighs again and turns to face the wall.

 

"What are you so afraid of Mark?" Jackson asks and somehow in the dark his voice almost seems soothing. But then Mark sees them, opening up one at a time, hundreds and hundreds of eyes glowing in the night, filled with scorn, disgust, and contempt for him. It makes his heart ache, the stares, the silent thoughts that tell him he isn't right when he feels perfectly content himself. But it unsettles him, the thought that Mark can never really be comfortable in his own skin until others decide he can.

 

"Mark?" Jackson calls out again.

 

"What?"

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Mark thinks of Jinyoung and his laughter, his quivering smiles, his soft fingertips, his distant eyes, and how warm his skin is, and decides that he isn't okay. "Not really."

 

➳

 

He's on a twenty minute break from his psych-ed lecture when Mark decides to head towards the tennis court. He peers through the green gates and finds Bohyung in her tennis kit, her hands across her chest as she marches up and down the court. He whistles to get her attention, and it makes several people turn along with Bohyung. Marks about to wave but realises how embarrassing whistling was in the first place.

 

Mark really wishes he didn't have to notice the way she smiles when he points towards a bench, asking her to come over. But he does, and he feels just as guilty for doing nothing really but wanting to talk. He goes ahead of her, feeling cool under the shade of a tree; it was incredibly hot today, and all Mark really wanted to do was sit in a bath of ice, then listen to his professor drawl about how high temperatures affect athletes.

 

"Mark!" Bohyung calls out as she jogs her way excitedly towards Mark. He sees the slight tint of pink in her cheeks and decides it's because of the hot weather. "What are you-" She trips all of a sudden, her arms flailing around in the air before landing on her palms. Mark gets up quickly and runs towards her, grabbing her by the elbows.

 

"You okay?"

 

"Ow..." She whines and sits up on her knees. "That hurt like a ." She's rubbing at her nose and Mark can't help but chuckle a little at the sight of her; hair disheveled and dirt on her face.

 

"Don't laugh at me, I'm already embarrassed enough as it is,"  She grumbles and wipes her face with the back of her hand.

 

Mark bites his lips and takes a hand to her cheek, rubbing at the dirt softly. "Haven't seen you in a while, forgot how much of a clutz you are." Mark jokes, and takes his sleeve to rub a little harder on her jaw. Bohyung’s looking down at her hands, and at this proximity, Mark really cannot help but notice the deep red that stains her cheeks. He breathes out, and goes to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and she looks up at him with those big eyes of her.

 

"Didn't you want to tell me something, the other day?" Mark says, hoping to cut the moment where it was.

 

Bohyung looks a little startled but nods, "Ah yeah...it's nothing important," She smiles, rubbing consciously at her cheek.

 

"Well, I've got time now," Mark says with a tilt of his head.

 

They were still on their knees when Bohyung goes to scratch at the back of her neck. She's wearing a ponytail, strands of hair falling on her round face as if she had tied it up without really looking in the mirror. "I was just wondering, if you'd like to go out sometime?" She coughs a little, and bites her lips. Mark wants to ease out the awkward crease between her eyebrows, but he keeps his hands on his lap.

 

"With everyone else?" Mark suggests, and it's a cruel suggestion, but he had already refused her - he wasn't sure what to do.

 

"No...just us," She persists, and Mark sighs a little.

 

"Bohyung-"

 

"I know, I know, you already rejected me. But, but I thought it was just that you weren't that open minded about it. I mean we get along pretty well, I mean I thought I was one of the closest girls to you, so maybe you just need to adjust to the idea that- you know you could see me as a potential-"

 

"Bohyung," Mark says sterner. "I really can't."

 

Bohyungs face falls, "W-why not? Am I that unattractive?"

 

Mark bites his bottom lip, nibbling on the edges. "No, that's not it," Mark gulps and takes a hand to her to pull out the ponytail, watching her hair waterfall down her face delicately. He brushes his fingers through them, and settles his palm at the bottom of her scalp. "I'm just not attracted to girls." He says finally and settles his head in his other palm whilst playing with her brown locks.

 

It was almost amusing to watch, the way Bohyung’s eyes twitches as she registers the words he'd said. "You're gay!?" She bursts all of a sudden, and it almost sounds like an answer to a question she was digging to find for years. "Oh my god...this makes so much sense," She whispers under her breath, and Mark looks at her in confusion.

 

"Bohyung...?"

 

Bohyung takes her hands suddenly and slaps them on either side of Mark’s cheeks, "This makes so much sense." She says again louder, her eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. She holds Mark’s head in her hands and nods to herself. "This makes me feel so much better, I mean I still like you - but yes, this makes sense."

 

Mark furrows his eyebrows, "Bohyung, what are you talking about?"

 

"You liked Youngjae!" She declares all of a sudden, shaking Mark’s head. "Oh my god, yes - I always wondered why you looked at him the way you did."

 

"Was I that obvious?" Mark mumbles, a little frown on his face.

 

"You like Jackson now, right?" She asks, and Mark turns his glare on her.

 

He grabs her hands by the wrists and pulls them down, holding them down on his lap. "Why do people keep saying that?"

 

"You don't?"

 

"No," Mark whines. "Who would like an idiot like him?" He kisses his teeth and let's a pout on his face.

 

Bohyung snorts, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I got a bit excited there." She takes her hands back and takes one to ruffle at Mark’s hair.

 

"You should really dye your hair back to black," Bohyung comments, and Mark looks up at her to find a small frown on her face. "Were you scared?"

 

"Scared?"

 

"Scared to tell me?" She says, and looks down at him with a smile and tilted eyebrows.

 

"No..." Mark ponders, he's not entirely sure why he hadn't told her. He knows things are different now. In university...people accept you more for you are, for how you look, who you like, what you do, and yet the nightmares from his past refuse to bite off the leash they've wrapped around Mark’s neck. "Just a habit I guess." He replies, mirroring her smile.

 

"Well, then do you like someone?" She asks and goes to play with his bangs, twiddling the ends between her fingertips.

 

Mark doesn't really reply, he just finds an awkward curl in Bohyung’s hair and twirls it around his index finger, revelling in the softness of it.

 

And if chance were the prankster of all time, then at this moment, it was only evident Jinyoung would make his entrance; grabbing at Mark's wrist roughly and pulling him up to his feet. Bohyung looks up startled and follows suit, tapping at her scratched knees, and straightening up to look at Jinyoung, whose face was contorted in a rage of confusion and anger.

 

"What are you doing to someone's girlfriend?" Jinyoung demands, and Mark cringes a little to look at Bohyung.

 

"You...guys are dating?" Mark asks Bohyung with a flick of his head.

 

"What- no, what are you talking about Jinyoung?" Bohyung asks, and Jinyoung huffs loudly and lets go of Mark’s wrist with a flick.

 

"Aren't you dating Eunkwang?" Jinyoung questions back, and Bohyung scoffs a little at the response.

 

"No, I'm not," Bohyung states firmly. "That guy just has a serious need of getting into my pants."

 

Jinyoung blushes a little, his anger subsiding quickly except for the pink on his cheeks. "Oh, I'm sorry..." He mumbles.

 

"It's fine," Bohyung laughs, and pats Jinyoung’s shoulder sympathetically. "But I was a little surprised, I've never seen you so distraught Jinyoung." It seems light on her lips, but what she said was true. Mark had never seen him so much of a mix of anything but whimsical and bright.

 

"Ah..." He opens his mouth and turns to look at Mark, before looking away quickly. "I'm just- just not having a good day." Jinyoung answers quickly and turns his back on the two of them to briskly walk away. Mark gives Bohyung a quick goodbye, unsettled by the sly grin on her face as he jogs towards Jinyoung.

 

"Jinyoung," Mark calls out and goes to grab at Jinyoung's wrist. "What's wrong?"

 

Jinyoung shucks his hand away and rubs at his wrist, shifting between looking at Mark and not. "Nothing...I'm fine."

 

Mark creases his eyebrows together. "You don't look fine."

 

Jinyoung puts a hand on Mark’s shoulder and smiles reassuringly at him. "I'm fine, Mark - hey, uh want to hang out later?" He suggests, and there's a tone to his voice that says he doesn't really want to hang out at all.

 

Mark narrows his eyes, "No, I don't think so."

 

Jinyoung his lips, the smile transforming into a smirk for a moment before he quickly tightens it up, and pats Mark’s shoulder again. "Okay, okay...I'm just going to go now then. See ya' round." He says with a point of his thumb.

 

"See ya'." Mark replies but Jinyoung’s already gone.

 

➳

 

There's a buzzing besides Marks ears, followed by the infernal blinking of a bright light behind his eyelids. He counts to ten in his head, deciding that if his phone is still ringing by then he'd open his eyes. It stops at eight and Mark feels himself slipping away again until it starts up again. With a deep growl, Mark cracks open one eye and goes to grab his phone from beside his pillow. He whines loudly when he sees it's Jackson calling him.

 

"What?" Mark snaps, shutting his eyes again.

 

"Dude, wait- are you sleeping?" Jackson asks flabbergasted.

 

"Not anymore, thank you," Mark grumbles, voice muffled slightly by his pillow.

 

"It's only six in the evening, jesus man," Jackson mumbles something but Mark doesn't care enough to listen. "Look, whatever, can you come to the library?"

 

"Why the hell do I have to do that?"

 

"Remember what we talked about the other day?"

 

"You have to be more specific Jackson, I ignore a lot of the things you tell me." Mark rolls his eyes and wonders how long it'd take to suffocate under his pillow.

 

"Jinyoung, about Jinyoung," Jackson hurriedly says. "Remember when I said he was a bit odd these past few weeks?"

 

Mark pulls his face from out of the pillow, and perches on his chin, staring up at his dim lamp. "Yeah?"

 

"Well, today he thought it'd be cool to kick a football right at the libraries window." Jackson declares and it makes Mark sit up.

 

"What? Why?" Mark demands, staring down at his pillow as if it where it's fault.

 

"Oh, now you're awake - now get over here," Jackson says firmly, and Mark squints.

 

"No, why do I have to go?"

 

"Collateral. You come here and convince him to write an apology, and the librarian won't make him pay for the damages," Mark can see Jackson nodding as if he were proud to create up this well thought out plan.

 

"Jinyoung won't apologize?" There's something extremely odd about the predicament that Mark can't even conjure up an image in his head.

 

"He's just staring out the window - will you just get here and stop being such a prissy?"

 

"Shut up Jackson, I'm coming." Mark hangs up and grudgingly goes to pick up the first pair of jogging bottoms and a t-shirt he can find.

 

It's already twilight when Mark finds Jinyoung. He's in the library, in the same seat Mark usually sits in with the window wide open. He's got his chin resting in his palms and his eyes focused somewhere in the distance. Mark slowly walks towards him, his heart thumping out of rhythm. He knows Jinyoung’s noticed him when he downcasts his eyes just as Mark takes a seat, but he doesn't move an inch and looks back outside.

 

"Where's Jackson?" Mark asks, and only manages to get a measly shrug back in response.

 

Mark looks towards the windows and finds the next one over has a web of a crack spiraling out from the centre of the collision. Mark looks back at the football pitch, the beams completely drowning out the night, as the girls have a football match on the field. But somehow, Mark doesn't think that's what Jinyoung's watching.

 

"You know," Jinyoung suddenly begins. "I've always wondered what you were looking at from here. Every time I'm playing football I'd see you casually looking outside, your head in your palms, your eyes somewhere. You looked like you were in such a daze, as if you were day dreaming. Other times it seemed like you were concentrating on something so hard." There's a small smile on his lips. "I wonder...I wonder at what point I started wondering what you were looking at. You'd stare so much you'd even fall asleep - it almost drove me mad with curiosity." He laughs a little, but his voice is filled with something heavy, something Mark can't pick up. "And then...I started thinking I wish it'd be me you were looking at." He said the last bit in barely a whisper so Mark almost thought he'd misheard.

 

"But I was looking at you," Mark confesses, and after all this time, Mark has never found admitting something so embarrassing so easy.

 

Jinyoung looks admittedly startled, a sudden blush rising to his cheeks, and he takes a hand to cover his mouth. "How can you say things like that so easily?"  Jinyoung stammers into his hand.

 

Mark looks down at his own hands, remembers tracing Jinyoung’s face with the tips of his fingers; remembers how much it ached. "It wasn't easy...all the time. Most of the time I'd have to be cautious especially around my friends, pretending I had remotely any interest in girls." Mark sighs. "But somehow with you, I was never really worried about what'd happen to me, I'm just worried about what would happen to you."

 

"It's all your fault," Jinyoung states, looking up at Mark then and Mark decides that all the fake smiles in the world were better than the grimace on his face now. "Not everyone is like you, easily accepting change."

 

"I guess I've just learnt not to fight," Mark ponders, and looks back down at his hands.

 

"You...you always seem so far away. You never flocked around me like the others, you didn't smile at me, or try to be my friend. You didn't try at all I think. At first...I thought I was just curious," His voice trembles a little as he takes a hand to brush at Mark’s bangs. "But you're really no fair you know that?"

 

"You always hide behind your bangs when you're holding yourself back, it's so infuriating." Jinyoung comments. His hand glides up towards Mark’s eye, where he takes a thumb and brushes it against his eyelashes. Then, it falls to Mark’s cheek, and he's breathing heavily. ", this is really bad, isn't it?" Jinyoung mutters.

 

"What is?"

 

"This." Jinyoung growls, tightening his grip on Mark’s face. "How much I want to kiss you right now - it's bad."

 

Mark’s more than surprised; he thinks of all the times Jaebum’s jumps scared him in the past year, and decides this is the most surprised he's ever been....probably, ever. "What?"

 

"Exactly." Jinyoung breaks into a sob and drops his forehead straight onto the table top.

 

"Wait," Mark calls out, still wracking his brain. "You like me?"

 

Jinyoung glares up from the crossed arms he has on the table, an angry pout on his lips. "Wasn't that pretty obvious from the beginning?"

 

Mark flicks through the memories and comes up with an answer. "No, not really."

 

"Give me a break, I didn't know I had a thing for guys either, okay." He chides with a scowl on his face, and goes to bang his forehead against the table for a second time. Mark lets out a short laugh, even pinches himself to check if this was all some horrible daydream again. But he feels the pain and Jinyoung is still smacking his head against the table.

 

Mark quickly slips a hand onto the table where Jinyoung lands and slides it downwards to cup his face. He pulls Jinyoung towards him where he can hold Jinyoung's head between his hands and stare at him. His forehead is a little red, but his cheeks are dipped in a far darker shade. Mark can't help but laugh again. "Oh, come on." Jinyoung whines. "Stop doing this, okay? I already feel bad enough for to your face the other night." Jinyoung confesses and slaps Mark’s hands away, but Mark can't help but continue to laugh.

 

"Are you that happy?"

 

"I thought I was no different from anyone else with you," Mark smiles wistfully, sadness pinching at the ends.

 

Jinyoung scoffs and gets up. He make his way around the table to sit next to Mark and cower in his seat a little bit as he awkwardly played with his fingers. "It's different." Jinyoung gulps. "It's so annoyingly different with you. And no, I don't mean being a guy is different. Everything is just different. I don't touch anyone like I touch you, god forbid I've ever kissed a friend anywhere before, I mean- do you know how easy it is for girls to fall for me?" He jokes, but Mark can barely let out a snort. "I'm comfortable but so uncomfortable around you, I don't have to force myself to smile, but I'm so conscious of your every movement. And I really, really hate it when someone else other than me touches you. I seriously hate it - I'm actually quite surprised by how much I hate even the thought." He grumbles and grabs Mark’s hand, leveling them up towards his lips so he can peck the tips of his fingers lightly.

 

"Seeing you yesterday with Bohyung," Jinyoung continues, staring down at Mark's trembling fingers. "I guess that was my breaking point. The Eunkwang thing was just a stupid excuse to get you away from her - you can't do that, Mark, you can't touch other people like that. It gives them hope, especially when she already-" Jinyoung bites his lip and huffs, frustratingly ruffling at his own hair. "Ugh, this is so gay." He grimaces and hides his face into his palm.

 

Mark laughs again, and it earns him a glare. "You..." Jinyoung threateningly points. "You...there's no backing out of this, okay? You turn a person gay, you take responsibility. I know just how fickle you are, okay? No word of a lie, I have spoken to Jaebum long and hard, if anything he's more helpful then you - if anything I should probably just go find him now and-" Mark presses his lips against Jinyoung’s then.

 

There's a smile on his lips when he presses his body closer because he can feel Jinyoung gasp a little, and then gulp. Mark looks up at Jinyoung whose eyes seem glazed over as he watches Mark peck him again, and again, grazing his teeth against his lips. Mark pulls away after a while, but keeps his forehead pressed against Jinyoung’s, who’s breathing heavily. "This is definitely bad." Jinyoung whispers, and Mark revels at the way Jinyoung’s breath tickles his skin.

 

"Hm?"

 

"This is so bad," Jinyoung whines, and goes to grabs Mark’s face. "That felt so much better than what I was expecting?"

 

"Expecting? What's that-" It's Jinyoung’s turn to interrupt Mark when he bends down and kisses him, only this time Jinyoung seems all the more feverish to trail his tongue against Mark’s lips and inhale in his scent.

 

"This explains all of those boners I had at the picture of you getting out of the shower," Jinyoung says unattractively against Mark’s lips.

 

Mark cringes back to look at Jinyoung, "Just how many times did you to me?"

 

Jinyoung chuckles and bends down to kiss him again, "Enough to feel stupid for not figuring this out earlier."

 

Mark feels a little hysteric that such a tiny glimmer of hope could blow up into something so big. Mark really can't help it. He can't help it all. He can't help taking Jinyoung’s hands into his own; he can't help tilting his face a little to the side, just as he can't help pressing his lips against Jinyoung’s. It was just like Mark thought kissing Jinyoung would be: hot and wet, and nothing like candy, but so stupidly perfect. He somehow wishes they'd just mould there forever.

 

Mark takes in a haggard breath before pressing his lips against Jinyoung’s again and again. This time Mark doesn't hold back in tracing his tongue over his lips, feeling slightly accomplished when he feels Jinyoung squirm and clutch at his chest. He kisses him, pouring every inch of his soul into his lips, on his tongue as if the taste would never be enough to satisfy Mark. He breaks the kiss, even though he wishes he could stay there for hours and hours on end.

 

Mark takes his hands and wraps them around Jinyoung, pulling him into a hug so he can press his lips onto the crook of Jinyoung’s neck. "This is real, right?" He says breathlessly, as if no amount of confirmation can really make him believe. Jinyoung wraps his arms around Mark too and squeezes just as tight.

 

"I'm sorry I'm late." Jinyoung whispers, his voice breaking a little as he squeezes Mark’s waist even harder. Mark breathes in the scent of shampoo coming from Jinyoung’s hair and clutches at his back, as if being this close already wasn't enough.

 

Mark closes his eyes, and kisses Jinyoung’s neck again. He tries to think about how hard it was to get where he is today, but nothing even begins to submerge. That fact enough leaves Mark feeling like if he could tell his past one thing, it's that it really does get better. So much better.