"Excuse me," the girl says, "Jackson oppa?"

Jackson gives her a once over, before settling his gaze on the way her cheeks are practically burning. "I'm sorry, but if you're going to ask me if I'd like to go out with you or whatever, please, save it." He chooses to show her a smile despite what he's saying. "I'm not interested."

-

Junior looks scandalized. "You didn't."

Jackson frowns. Then, he looks uninterestedly at the gray string, too aware of what's going to happen and too tired to react. At least, for now.

"Oh, believe me, " Mark is saying, shaking his head at Jackson. "He totally did. Poor girl looked like she was holding her tears back."

Junior makes a weird noise with his mouth. And, as he's predicted, one second later Junior is shouting at him. "There's a better way to reject someone, Jackson! Don't you know that people have feelings?" He spits out. "And girls are sensitive. You had to be nice! She's probably somewhere crying right now." He rambles. "I don't know how you'll be able to sleep at night."

Jackson raises his eyebrows judgementally because rolling them would only make things worse. He's still not meeting Junior's gaze, though. No, thanks.

"What's the point of being nice to her if I don't want to date her?" He whispers, and the he lets out a sigh. Without waiting for an answer, he lifts his cigarette to his mouth and inhales. He exhales slowly, purposely sending all the smoke to the two's direction. This is a smoker area, anyway. "Stop looking at me like that. God."

"You're such an ." Junior says, his voice sounds weird. He must have covered his nose.

Jaebum and Bambam join them a few minutes later. The topic is still the same because the guys just don't want to change it. Jackson is ten seconds from exploding when they repeat the story, and Junior gives him for his behaviour again and again.

"What was I supposed to say then?" He finally snaps.

"Wooo," Mark meddles in, signing them to calm down, "easy, Jacks."

There's no way Jackson could chill. Not when he finally takes a look on Junior and the guy seems like he wants to kill him right here right now.

He knew from the first moment he met him that they would not get along. Junior is just a person who cares too much about anything, and Jackson is basically, well—it's true, he's an . He has a lack of interest in anything that would just lead to annoyance, and that means a lot of things, including stuff like relationships for example. Because why trouble himself and he's perfectly fine with himself, c'mon.

"What do you mean 'what were you supposed to do'? You should have told her differently. She's probably out there getting fat right now." Junior continues. "She'll get obese, and it will be your fault."

That elicits a laugh from him. It comes out as a sneer. "You're a ."

"You are a ."

"Oh, I really don't think so."

"I do."

"But you're a head. So you never count."

Junior's palm collides with the table. "What did you say?" He's suddenly very angry. God. It takes so little to rile him up. Just Jackson saying a few words and he turns already into an angry ugly buffalo.

One more thing and he'll combust into ashes.

That would be so funny, Jackson believes, and so he inhales his cigarette for the last time before blowing everything out to Junior's face.

There's a Jackson, c'mon, and then Jaebum, who's been sitting quietly since he'd arrived is pulling Junior's sweater down in order to hold him back from jumping and strangling Jackson, who's actually grinning like it's Christmas.

Mark sighs, exasperated, and looks at him. "Good job," he mutters, "now we need to get coffee somewhere else."

And , yes, that reminds Jackson that this is a public place and the other clients, and more probably the owner and the staff must hate them now. He's definitely not surprised when he rapidly glances here and there and see students turning their looks down at their books as they notice him and start murmuring something under their breath. 

"Look at what you did." Junior says, lowering his tone to the minimum.

Jackson just glares. 

"ing stop it, Junior." Jaebum chastises, and Junior, because he's unfair and he's a jerk only to Jackson, doesn't counter back, but simply lays against the stupid polka dotted couch.

Silent stretches, and then it's interrupted by the waiter who timidly asks them if he can clean their table, and if they'd like him to bring them something else. Jackson does not think he looks hideous to guys—some of them has proven to like him—he doesn't think he looks that scary either, because, frankly, he's even shorter than that face of Junior, but the boy all but avoids looking up at him when he's taking Jackson's now empty coffee glass.

When the waiter's done, Jaebum orders an espresso for himself and a macchiato for Bambam. 

"S-sure." The boy says, eyes down at the floor.

"Thank you." 

Mark folds himself over the table, and props his face up his hand. He's laughing. "So, when was the last time you actually smiled?" 

Jackson glares at him. He just scoffs.

"The guy was stuttering." Bambam unhelpfully points out. He's looking at Jackson with this pair of disappointed eyes, and it irritates Jackson more.

Everyone is so stupid. Jackson isn't scary. them all. He does not dignify anyone with an answer. And when the waiter comes back, he just makes an ever more bitter expression, just because.

He's still not talking when they go out, and not when Jaebum and Jinyoung finally go do what they have to do, he doesn't care, and not even when it's only him, Mark and Bambam.

If it wasn't for Mark blurting out a complete bull he would have gone pretending to be mute until he was home.

"So," Mark starts casually, jumping here and there, "I did not say this when Jinyoung was there because I didn't want to get killed, but you made the right choice, man."

Bambam responds, "are you still talking about the girl and—?" Mark nods. "Really." The other replies in a monotone.

Mark shrugs. He's giggling. Sometitmes he goes crazy. They make two, three steps before he hipchecks Jackson, giving him a sidelong look that the latter can't figure out.

"It's better this way, though, nah?" Mark asks slowly, still looking strangely now to the both of them. "It'd be a problem 'cause Bambam has always been the jealous type, yeah? And Jackson looks grumpy, but he's the faithful guy and I guess he's sweet when it's only the two of you, eh?"

He and Bambam both stop walking to stare at Mark.

"What."

"What the hell."

Mark stops too. "So?" He prompts.

Jackson glares.

Bambam for his part says the obvious. That they're not together, what the hell, what the hell, but he's also sporting these red apple cheeks.

"You guys are telling me you haven't—" Mark is so dead. He's doing this on purpose, Jackson knows that. He should have never trusted him, like never ever. God.

"No, we're not." Bambam denies, even shaking his head. "We're—we're really not."

"What? Seriously?" Mark fakes shock.

"Just ing shut up, Mark!" Jackson warns him.

"But that's a waste." Mark continues. "Because you'd be so good together." He says. "Think about it, okay?"

Bambam doesn't say anything, while Jackson finally snaps and flips Mark off as the latter just laughs loud. 

—

Jackson and Mark are childhood friends, and Jackson is pretty sure that that is the only reason why he doesn't lash out his anger on him when Mark is being a to him. (Oh, and Jackson's mom would kill him if something happened to Mark).

Knowing each other and seeing each other almost every day haven't brought them super close, though. They're similar in their being reserved, but Mark has always succeeded in hiding it behind his playful image while Jackson does not care one bit.

They do come to each other when they need help—rare occasions. And it's more for futile things, never for serious matters.

Mark knows about Bambam just because he was there when it happened.

Jackson did not have any clue before that night. It was last year. An October night, if he's not wrong. They were at this girl's party. Jackson didn't even want to come, he was just dragged there by everyone. He was sipping a cheap beer, and listening to Mark venture to someone about stupid stuff when Bambam slid right next to him.

He raised an eyebrow when an arm dropped over his shoulder. Bambam's a clingy person, but it was news, because he's never been like this with Jackson before.

"Say," Bambam said, and Jackson scrunched up his nose at the strong smell of the alcohol.

"What the hell had you been drinking?" He asked.

"Say," Bambam said again, "say—"

"What do you want?"

"Say, what would you do if someone was gay?"

Jackson frowned at the question. "Nothing." He answered. "Why would I mind? Good for them." He did not like how Bambam's eyes were glossy and red. This ing idiot. Getting smashed like that. 

He did not protest when Bambam strenghtened his grip around him only because of he was half gone. 

"And say—"

Jackson sighed audibly. "Go home, you ing stink."

"No, say," Bambam gritted his teeth, "what if he was gay for you?"

He had jerked his arm then, hitting Bambam in the ribs. The other hissed, but did not move away.

And Jackson would normally just ing leave without saying anything at this point, but Bambam's part of the group, he was not in his right mind now, and Jackson was more than convinced that if he'd been sober, Bambam would have never told him that.

"I would not," Jackson stopped to inhale, "get mad." 

Bambam knitted his eyebrows together, leaned a bit closer, and Jackson brought his head back. "I'm—"

"Don't." Jackson had said. He finally pried away Bambam's hold on him. "Let's get you home." He stood up, ignoring Bambam's calls of his name.

He'd just looked over the other's head, and he found Mark's eyes glued on him. That's when he remembered about Mark being just there. He eavesdropped on them, Jackson was sure.

But instead of saying anything about what he'd witnessed, Mark nodded at him. "Already called a cab." He said. "I got him."

Jackson declared, "don't you—"

Mark had shrugged. "Your , you decide."

—

What a ing liar.

—

Knowing how much even simple jokes affect Bambam (because this guy thinks too much and sees too much in everything) Jackson should have seen it coming.

—

On a normal day Jackson wouldn't buy coffee, but he needs to completely wake up from the very early morning. He's got to prepare different papers, talk to two teachers, and go to the library to borrow a book for tomorrow.

The hall is pretty empty at this hour, and that's how he likes it. He hates making his way through students to get to his room, so he leaves at 7.30 with Jaebum's snoring as a background, to arrive around 7.38 at the campus, and then he walks slowly, as in really slowly, all by himself to his class.

Someone would say it's all his fault for ruining his damn routine which consists of zero caffeine, but Jackson begs to differ. He's not going to blame himself for this. It's not because he's still sleepy, nor because he's got a cup with him.

No.

Jackson's got nothing to do with Bambam suddenly bumping into him—as in, the hall was empty three seconds ago, then Jackson had blinked, and Bambam's there, colliding his body against Jackson's arm, the one holding his coffee. Before having the possibility to move backwards and avoid having his jacket stained, Jackson is hit by the horrible sensation of his drenched shirt stickn.

"Oh, ," he hears Bambam whisper as he stares at his clothes. Then, when the kid looks up, he emits a really puppy sound. Y'know, when puppies have their mouths shut and they pretend they're crying and go "mmm, mmm, mmm". That.

Jackson is so done and it's not even eight in the morning.

"I'm so sorry Jackson!" Bambam buries his face in his hands. He's red in the face when he puts his arms down, and looks at the mess he's done. "I'm just—I didn't know—"

The unfinished sentences followed by stuttered words just contribuit in building Jackson's annoyance. "ing shut up, I don't care."  He says harshly.

There's a really sad look in Bambam's eyes, but Jackson doesn't let himself get affected. Instead, he shakes his head, turns on his heels, and starts walking toward the cafeteria because it might be open and there are tissues there. He dumps the half empty cup in a bin he finds in the way, and then, remembering he's ing soaked, he pulls his jacket off. ing great. It's coffee wet too.

He's ing his shirt, and thinking about whether or not, completely undress himself. He's not entirely sure he just can walk in there half . 

"Jackson, it's cold!" And that's still Bambam's voice. Jackson stops in his track to rotate his head back. Bambam's just behind, apparently he's been following him.

Jackson scowls. He reassumes walking and he tries to ignore Bambam's presence until he's groaning at the letters "Closed" written in bold letters on the cafeteria door.

"Do you have tissues?" He asks, then. 

Bambam bites on his bottom lip. He shakes his head.

Jackson clenches his jaw. 

"I can try looking if there's someone and ask—"

"No, it's all dry now." Jackson declines.

"Ah, yes." Bambam deflates with a nod. "I'm really sorry. I didn't see you. I'm really really sorry—"

Jackson cuts him off, "well, your sorrys won't make me stop smelling like coffee all day."

Bambam flinches. 

Jackson refuses yet again to get moved by the other's reaction. "I gotta go." He says. What is he going to do with his jacket? Is a washing machine going to erase the stain? He's not equipped to deal with like this. He's learnt how to cook just last year, and sometimes he's ing scared to try his creations to the point that he lets Jaebum have different spoons of them to see if he doesn't die.

His ears perceive Bambam mumble something, and against his better judgement, he asks,

"huh?"

Bambam looks tense.

"What is it?"

Bambam opens his mouth to say nothing.

Jackson has no time to deal with him. "Okay, whatever." He turns around, and Bambam stops him with a tug on the hem of his shirt. The kid says something, but it's too low. "What did you say? Tell me again."

Bambam smiles, but it looks panicky, and it resembles more a pained expression. It's a bit creepy, actually. 

"Would you go out with me?"

Jackson looks at him. "Say it again." He orders.

Bambam gulps. "W-would you go out with me, Jackson?" He eventually obliges.

"No."