That was the first time ever someone was rude towards him that Jinyoung could practically laugh his head off. Well, he did call the waiter rudely so maybe he deserved it after all. But that image of fingers clicking and rude replies got him hooked. When was the last time someone ever talked back to him, and a waiter no less.

Jinyoung watched the young man make his way around the tiny restaurant, a diner it had said before he came in, and he was rather fascinated by the red haired waiter. Perhaps it was the red hair, perhaps it was the confident vibe, and perhaps Jinyoung was spellbound. Maybe Jinyoung needed a little sass to get through Suji’s wedding and perhaps, maybe it was the first time someone dare spoke up to him. Oh, Jinyoung was entertained indeed.

His back has never felt this bad. Jinyoung was lying on his side, eyes cracking open from the sudden cold he felt coming from what felt like cheap plywood flooring, nose picking up unusual earthy and herbal scents, mouth dry and God, where was he? He groaned once. The memories came back then; he had been awake for a whole day with that long drive. He stopped by a diner and met a red haired guy. He was supposed to return to Haru, but that would have been a bad idea! The staffs could have seen him and what was his name again? Ah, Mark, that’s it.

How long has he been out anyway? Jinyoung gave his body a good stretch, leaning back towards the only source of heat. Jinyoung groaned again. Was it a heated floor? Would this kind of, okay let’s call it a, house have heated floors? But it caught him off guard when the source of heat started talking.

“Go to sleep, Jinyoung-ssi. You could use the extra 10 minutes.”

Oh, so that was the comfortable source of heat.

The other man didn’t know what he signed up for, might as well let him know now. Jinyoung moved his lithe body, gaining careful balance and landed above Mark. He didn’t want to think where his upper and lower limbs were situated at the moment.

Mark gave him a comment about being a morning person, and Jinyoung understood him well. Jinyoung wanted to turn the tables. He told Mark his true intention and told the man below him that he needed a fake boyfriend. It was the first time seeing the red head blush. Oh, Jinyoung was very entertained indeed.

“Y-you want m-me to be your f-fake b-boyfriend?” Mark stuttered, voice coming out in a squeak.

Indeed, they were definitely too close for comfort, but Jinyoung noticed how Mark looks definitely cute and vulnerable in the crack of dawn.

“I didn’t know you’re a big fan of stuttering, Mark-ssi. But, yes, I do need your help to be one, but just for today, and we’re already running out of time,” Jinyoung replied as he peered over his wrist watch.

“But, you just said that you needed to buy my time, we didn’t agree upon any relationship, or a fake one not to mention, involved.”

Their breath mingled, Jinyoung ignored the fact that none of them smelled minty enough. What a weird thing to notice, Park Jinyoung.

“Yeah, well, don’t worry; I’m willing to pay you a higher price if you do your work well,” Jinyoung moved a little and the thigh against knee friction caused a whimper from Mark. Jinyoug smirked. The other guy was all talk and no play after all.

“I can do exceptionally well, but we-we know next to n-nothing about each other. I mean, if I was going to lie, I need solid evidence other than, I don’t know, something like you slept with your boss to get where you are. Judging the way you ride, it’s no secret you did a really good job. Oh and no puns intended.”

That made him laugh; Jinyoung swore that he has never laughed this much in all of his God-awful stressful working days. Jinyoung moved again, this time knees parting Mark’s leg wider and he saw the guy bite his upper lip. Now lip biting just got to a whole new level of y and cute.

“What are you-” but Jinyoung decided Mark shouldn’t finish asking and took a chance on those inviting, cherry red lips.

It wasn’t the greasy meal that night, or the trust he gave letting someone else drive his car, or the non-heated floor. It was Mark all along, the emotions he kept hidden, the snarky remarks he threw at Jinyoung and that vulnerable part of him that Jinyoung wanted to discover.

He felt it, he heard it loud and clear, Mark’s heart thundering against his chest, or was it his very own? When did he ever felt like this? Jinyoung have never felt this foreign feeling before, this erratic beat of his heart. He was afraid that Mark could have felt it too and started questioning him about it. Thin fingers were pulling, touching the area just around his stomach then balled into fists on Jinyoung's dress shirt.

Jinyoung’s tongue darted out, caressing the lips against his and there was no battle, Mark gave in and they were both into their own bliss. Jinyoung’s tongue took its time, testing, tasting, savouring. A tinge of last night’s peppermint gum and what seemed to be a mixture of spice that is labeled Mark were present.

He inhaled carefully, taking in the earthy scent that was Mark. He smelled of trees and herbs, pines and faint touches of rosemary. Jinyoung knew as he smelt it at Haru's kitchen before. Mark was so different, definitely not what the usual Giorgio Armani or Chanel could have offered him.

Mark’s moan collided against his eardrum, Jinyoung shivered as the hair on the back of his neck bristled and he felt the other guy froze below him. Jinyoung know it was involuntary, but he didn’t want the magic to stop. Gaining balance with his knees on the plywood floor once again, he reached down for Mark’s hands, guiding them upwards, away from dangerous zones. He spread the other’s palms with patience, fitting his own fingers into the gaps formed, calming Mark in his own way.

But of course, all good things come to an end. The violent vibration of Jinyoung’s phone shattered the spell. Mark’s eyes half-lidded, a gust of shaky exhale and both his hands released Jinyoung’s but the man on top was quick to act on it. One hand released Mark’s to reach over the annoying manmade gadget while his other hand stayed firm, not letting the other go. With one swift pull, they were both sitting up, Jinyoung again on his knees and Mark blinking rapidly at him, back a slight hunch, knees bent and breathless.

“You better give me a good reason for calling at 6AM, Park Jimin,” Jinyoung’s brows were almost touching with that kind of frown.

“Mrs. Park asked me why you weren’t at your apartment last night.”

“And this is important, why?”

“She’s coming over this morning.”

“Again, why?”

“I kind of told her that you stayed over at your boyfriend’s house, Sir. You might get angry at me for that, Sir, but I’ve got her to cancel the visit, meet you at the airport and you are cleared to come home any time you please.”

“Good work,” Jinyoung replied and tapped ‘end’.

He was slightly miffed but the still glistening lips caught his attention. He looked up to see Mark staring back at him.

“Well, at least now I know you’re an okay kisser. And that just caused you $800.”

Jinyoung laughed, again, shaking his head and stood up. The hand that was still holding onto Mark’s pulled him up as well. He knew it then, between them, the kissing subject wouldn’t resurface upon silent agreement.

“Let’s go, we’ve got a long drive ahead.”      

Jinyoung didn’t know why he agreed to let Mark drive. It was the scariest 3 hours of his life.

“How fast can the car go?” Mark asked.

“You tell me, your foot hasn’t touched the brake for almost half an hour.”

“Chill, Jinyoung-ssi. All is well,” and Mark had the audacity to laugh while he shot for an additional 10mph to the speedometer.

Jinyoung made an excuse to use the toilet. Well he needed it, and they were both probably hungry. He purchased some sandwiches, two bottled water and two sausage sticks. Jinyoung was about to take the first bite of his sausage when Mark appeared from behind and stole it.

“Hey, no stealing!”

“You bought two, didn’t you?”

He cleared his throat and grabbed the other one he left for Mark. They ate in silence then, and the only noise was the people around them, it was a busy morning at the rest area.

They got back on the road, stomach half-sated, eyes bright, energy replenished and Jinyoung behind the wheels.

It was Mark who spoke first.

“We should start lying to each other now so that we could trick other people.”

“We probably should. I’ll go first. I’m Park Jinyoung, turning 25, September 22^nd–”

“Younger than me, call me hyung okay, kid.”

“–Business studies; Harvard graduate. Korean. I’m about 178cm and 63kg. Blood type O and I love jamming to Chris Brown.”

“Wow, okay, too much information at once. So, I’m, umm, Mark Tuan. I’m a year elder, and we’re born on the same month, yay September babies! I’ve been a waiter my whole life, I’m an illegal immigrant – just joking – I’m actually American, it’s just that I’m too hot for them to handle. I am obviously lighter and shorter, goddamit. A type and hey, now that is one thing we have in common! Just like fiiiiine…”

Jinyoung was slow to catch up, but hearing that song, involuntarily, he continued, “China!”

“Aha! We have great chemistry. Okay, so what else should I know about you, Jinyoung-ssi?”

“Just that my parents are a little bit overwhelming, well, my Father would be cool but Mother would surely grill your even though she was the one who pulled me out of the closet.”

“Gosh, really?!”

Jinyoung nodded but continued no less, “I do think we could improve on your education and work part. Mother would have a fit if she knew I was dating a waiter. No offense, but you know how mothers are.”

“Nope,” Mark looked ahead, “I really don’t. Mine made out with my high school 9^th grade crush, ignored me when I have parents-teacher day. I really don’t care about what mothers think.”

Thinking that it was probably a sensitive topic, Jinyoung decided to drop the matter.

“Okay, why don’t we just rephrase your sentence a little? ‘While waiting for another job offer, you’ve decided to wait on tables as to not waste time.’ Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. What about pet names? I might end up calling you ‘baby’ in front of your parents,” Mark laughed at his own statement.

“Uh, oh God, I don’t know.”

“You haven’t been in this dating scene for long, now have you?”

“Have you?”

“That’s beside the point. Okay, what is the least cheesy but is only allowed for several people’s name do you have?”

“Mother calls me Junior. My ex called me Youngie–”  

“Jirongie! I’ll call you Jirongie! What do you think of that, Jirongie~?” He turned in his seat, excited with his “brilliant” idea.

“Uh, oh, okay, Jirongie is okay. What should I call you, Mark-ssi?”

“Doesn’t matter to me, really. You could’ve called me ‘Oops’ if my mother had the time change my name when I was a baby.”

“I should just call you Mark. It sounds nice. Mark,” Jinyoung said it out loud, testing how it felt without the formality tacked to it.

“Whatever you say, Jinyoung-ssi. Hey, do you mind if I doze off a little? All those adrenaline from driving is sinking in now. When was the last time I drove, I don’t know,” Mark had a lazy smile etched onto his handsome face.

“Hmm, sure thing.”

“You know, I don’t even think I have a driving license,” a giggle from the passenger and Jinyoung didn’t know how he trusted his life with an illegal driver.

Heavily induced with the need to sleep, Mark audibly whispered, “Yi En, call me Yi En, one thing I knew is that that’s my Chinese.”

In a matter of minutes, Jinyoung can hear soft snores coming from the red head man beside him. He closed the windows and the air conditioner set to a high temperature. Reaching over the dashboard, he pulled out his spare varsity jacket. With one hand, he efficiently blanketed the snoring guy. Soon after, Mark was comfortably sleeping with his jacket and Jinyoung floored the gas pedal.

It was almost 11AM when Mark was rudely awaken – for the 3^rd time that day – by a loud honking from afar. He was startled, awake in an instant, seatbelt safely placed, white and blue varsity covering him.

“Where are we?”

“My place in 10 minutes,” Jinyoung replied as he focused on the red light.

“I out that long?” He carefully folded the piece of clothing, wanting to steal a few sniffs, but Jinyoung was already watching him then.

Mark’s second question was answered with a nod.

“Jeez, sorry, I thought I only needed, like, half an hour.”

“It’s okay, your snores kept me awake.”

“I do not.”

“Do.”

“Not.”

“Do,” Jinyoung protested again, “listen to me, I’m your boyfriend.”

That surely shut Mark up. He gave Jinyoung a nasty sideway look.

They entered the underground parking ten minutes later, just like Jinyoung said. When the engine was off, Mark followed Jinyoung silently towards the elevator. The ride ascended, up, up and continued until the just a floor below the top.

Punching in a few numbers, the door blipped and with a slight push, Jinyoung directed Mark into his house. He thought the car was overrated. Wait until Mark gives you a tour of his fake boyfriend’s house.

“Bathroom’s right there,” a finger pointed just beside a door Mark was standing, “you’ll find the toiletries inside the mirror cabinet. I’m going to make a call, so, make yourself at home, I guess.”

Jinyoung then left Mark to his own devices. Mark couldn’t decide what he should be doing first. He considered all the factors and came up with a) take a shower, explore this mansion, maybe break a few expensive vases or b) explore the mansion, break a few expensive vases then take a shower. Either way, both seemed fine. He went for his first option and grabbed on the bathroom door handle.

“Holy crap. Welcome to Heaven, Mark Tuan.”

Dirty clothes scattered on the white polished marble floor, Mark Tuan danced in the round tub with its freestanding tub faucet. The large square rain shower set to a right temperature, steam rose as the water collide with any object it came across. Lathered in buttercream scent, Mark reached out for a bottle of shampoo.

Being alone, it brought Mark’s memory back to their little episode over at his place. He pitied Jinyoung for having to do something so sensual at a shameful place called Mark Tuan’s home. He could have gotten any male or female in this unearthly penthouse he lived in.

That aside, Mark didn’t know what pushed Jinyoung to kiss him. It caught him by surprise when those dry lips actually touched his. Jinyoung’s taut muscle above him, rocking with an unrehearsed manner, Jinyoung’s taste of greasy hamburger and cinnamon, Jinyoung’s smell – oh, he knows the smell – now all over his body, of sweet shower gel and his own zesty lemon tang, Jinyoung’s fingers entwined with his and those lips that caused a sudden shiver. Mark looked down to see a problem.  

“Mark!” The loud knocks and a harsh call snapped him out of his train of impure thoughts.

“What?!”

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but we’re late and I smell like herbs, so get out,” Jinyoung shouted. Just a few minutes won’t hurt, Mr. Park Jinyoung.

With his clothes back on, Mark opened the door to a pouting Jinyoung, and Mark is not happy with the way those lips looked so dangerously inviting.

“Before you say anything, I just have to confess that I am in love with your shower and you have no rights to be angry at me for cheating on you.”

“Whatever,” Jinyoung shook his head, “out of my sight, I need to go now.”

With the door shut tight beside him, Mark stretched his neck to listen. A few minutes of standing stock still; nothing, nothing was audible. Ah, soundproof door.

Mark moved away then, knowing that he would get nothing from eavesdropping. He ventured into the place. To his right, the kitchen was arranged to an L shape. The built in refrigerator with its tri-door stood alone, met by the bottom dishwasher, middle oven and top microwave with two med-sized black pepper shakers. Black sink beside the built in induction cooker with a stainless steel hood above it, and a few small electrical appliances sat at the corner.

To the left, there were stairs that led Mark’s way towards the cozy living room. On his way, he saw some of those cubic thingy you’d see people do, but Jinyoung had another dozen of its slightly similar twins. He laughed. Then, he saw a door right beside the cream sofa and that was where he aimed to go. Mark passed cute, brown coffee table held a vase of flowers, some books and the huge TV stacked on the wall.

He made it for the door and without a moment’s hesitation, stepped into the room. It wasn’t the room he expected, but a walk-in closet wasn’t that bad of a treasure. Mark didn’t want to stay in there for long, too many expensive items, he was afraid he would go blind. How could he have not noticed it? There was a large curtained section that was covered up when he made his exit. He grabbed on the thick, cream curtain and it finally revealed the house owner’s bedroom.

Mark didn’t expect the decoration at all. It was set to Asian style. Low bed, just below his knees, similar to Japanese style houses with its interconnecting creative headboard and long bedside table. There was a potted plant of fake curly willow tree and the glazed porcelain time felt smooth against his feet. And on to the right side, a full view of the city caught Mark’s breath away from Jinyoung’s bedroom floor-to-ceiling window.

His steps halted when a voice floated in the small alcove of the bedroom.

“I knew you’d be here. Here, change into these. I don’t think you’d want to meet my Mother wearing your ‘Hae’s Diner’ shirt,” Jinyoung said, mocking tone of catching Mark red headed in his bedroom audible.

Mark looked back to the neatly folded outfit thrown on the bed while a – oh my God is he wearing what I think he’s wearing?! – half Jinyoung in black towel left him for his closet. Mark nodded his head at the view.

He stripped and changed into what seemed to be Jinyoung’s clothes because he can smell it and he likes it.

“Are you done?” Jinyoung asked as Mark made his exit from the tempting bed.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Good, just one more stop, then we’re off to the airport.”

“I am not getting dolled up, Park Jinyoung.”

“You must and you will.”

“Your words are not law.”

“Mark Tuan, either you sit your on that chair or I will make you.”

Mark huffed, biting his upper lip in annoyance and sat on the chair that waited for him. The stylist lady didn’t utter a single word but kept a smile while they bickered.

“Good, now behave for a little while, please,” and he turned to the stylist who had a ‘WENDY’ on her name tag, “Wendy, please do as instructed. I believe I’m leaving my boyfriend in your trusted hands.”

It kind of shocked Mark that Jinyoung was carelessly branding him as ‘my boyfriend’. But Mark was thankful that the girl kept her smile and bowed as Jinyoung started to leave.

“Yes, Sir,” she then turned to Mark, “now, Mark-ssi, I’ve been instructed to make you pretty, so, let’s get to it or Mr. Park will not let me see another day in this saloon.”

The only reason why he eventually let them ‘make him look pretty’ was because their pleas of not wanting to scare Mr. Park. Who is he, really?

Oh Mark was dolled up for sure. Wendy trimmed his unkempt hair first, and then did an underside cut which gave Mark a fuzzy feeling from the sharp, miniscule tips as he ran his fingers by the cut section. The red dye was then styled into gelled mess, a proper mess that didn’t involve kitchen grease and a day’s work sweat.

The small beep of the sliding door brought in Park Jinyoung and a suit in hand.

He approached Mark with mischief twinkling in his eyes. Wendy stayed back and everyone welcomed the man. Jinyoung then handed another girl beside Wendy the suit, ushering her away as he brought his attention back to Mark.

“Hello there, y,” he bent down and Mark didn’t know he was okay with public displays, until Jinyoung kissed him on his forehead, “you look good. Go and get change, but be quick, okay?”

Mark nodded since he was too surprised to even verbally reply. Jinyoung turned the chair for him and Mark robotically got himself off the chair and followed the girl with the suit.

When Mark was all set, he was greeted by a very good looking, new hair cut Jinyoung.

“Well, hello to you, too, handsome,” Mark commented and Jinyoung grabbed his hand, as if everything about them was natural.

They left the posh saloon and Jinyoung opened the door for him. Mark stepped in the backseat, a little confused. Once he was seated, Mark saw a man, or boy, who looked no older than Jinyoung himself was on the driver seat.

“Hello, Mr. Tuan. I’m Park Jimin, General Manager private assistant.”

“Hello, Jimin-ssi,” Mark greeted the assistant back as Jinyoung slid in to sit beside him.

“Step on it, Jimin. Mother’s voice is still ringing in my ears,” Jinyoung commanded, his hand creeping its way to find Mark’s.

“Yes, General Manager, on it.” The boy nodded, and his attention was completely on the road by then.

“Ge-General Manager?!” Mark turned to look at the man beside him. Jinyoung lied to him; he lied about being who he was. But…but of course, that only explained the car, the penthouse, the treatment he received. “You are Haru’s freaking General Manager?!”

“Yes, baby. Are we playing that ‘Who Are You’ game again?”

How can he be royally ed by this handsome idiot the second time?!

Another vomit of 3.8K words. I shall eat my cherries now. No puns intended