A/N: Hello again, readers! It's my 4th anniversary writing Markjin on AFF, and this is the second goodie I'm posting, following the new fic My Men of Mystery this morning! Keeping with the theme of reader request, these three fics come from an ASK.FM request to do a crossover between different versions of Mark and Jinyoung in my various fics. I decided to give it a try, and this is what I came up with!

Please note that I'm not going to be writing continuations of these fics, because I have other stories I'm working on. However, as many of you should be well familiar with these characters already, I think it shouldn't be hard to imagine the different paths these stories would take in their new terms. If you aren't familiar with the original stories, I've linked to them--please feel free to check them out!

I hope you enjoy this gift as well!

What Comes After Jinyoung x Cinnamon & Ginger Mark

It was hitting the point it always did, where everything started hurting. The music over the speakers, Jackson’s overly loud voice singing along, the pizza resting like a dead weight in his belly, the beer wreaking havoc on his system, his heart shattered into pieces in his chest. Jinyoung had a feeling already that this was going to be a messy night, the kind that descended into him weeping into grease stained napkins and vomiting on the store manager’s shoes. At least he wouldn’t remember it in the morning, other than the lingering sense of shame, the leftover bile in his mouth, and the stubbornly persistent sense of a broken heart that never quite went away.

“Daddy, is that man OK?” a young voice intruded into his thoughts. Jinyoung cracked open an eye. Usually there weren’t any children out this late at night in 1000₩, but sure enough there was a toddler-aged boy sitting on the lap of a handsome looking twenty or thirty-something man a few tables over. The little boy was openly staring at Jinyoung and pointing, while the man—his father, presumably—quickly tried to get him to put his hand down, whispering, “Lou, it’s rude to point like that!”

God, here I am traumatizing the kiddies, Jinyoung thought, lifting up his beer glass. He had no idea how he looked at this point, but he assumed his eyes were probably glassy and bloodshot, and he probably looked about two seconds away from crying, as was his default state whenever he went on these 1000₩ binges.

His eyes shifted back over to the father, who was gazing back at him with a look of concern. Jinyoung felt a little guilty for pinching such a handsome face with those lines of worry. He’d gotten a bit indiscriminate about having a ‘type’ over the years, but he thought idly that the little boy’s father would have been his type once upon a time, what with his pretty features and unusually intense gaze. Not that it mattered. He made enough trouble for himself constantly dating ually-insecure gays; he didn’t really need to be adding straight, probably married men to his resume.

Jinyoung took another deep gulp of his beer. Give it another few minutes, and attractive-dad’s face would be spinning along with the rest of the room and he wouldn’t have to think himself to death about the appearances of other men when all other men did was dump him time and time again for the exact same pathetic reason.

He could feel the tears start leaking out at that. Apparently he was hitting the weepy part of the evening, his least favorite part. It was also his signal to get another beer to hasten the oblivion and save his heart from all the doubt and sorrow it wasn’t strong enough to endure.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice came from beside him. Jinyoung looked up hazily. The boy and his dad were now standing by his table, the dad looking even more concerned than before. “Are you all right? Do you need help?”

Of course I do, but what can you do about it?, Jinyoung’s sarcastic mind responded, but the alcohol had already handed over the control of his responses over from his head to his heart, so rather than saying this, Jinyoung instead burst into tears—big, wet, messy drunken sobs.

The boy looked at his dad in alarm, mouth falling open as if he’d never imagined in his life that a grown adult could cry like that. The dad quickly crouched down beside Jinyoung, rubbing his back. “Sssh, ssh, it’s OK,” he said in the soft, soothing way he probably talked to his own son during outbursts. “You’re OK.” He signaled to the cashier guy Jackson, who was passing by, to take away his beer pitcher, which Jinyoung sincerely wanted to protest, though his body wouldn’t let him.

“He comes here after bad breakups,” he heard Jackson whispering to the handsome dad as he collected the pitcher. “Quite often. And usually won’t leave until he’s trashed out of his mind.”

“Well, that’s no good,” handsome dad said solemnly. He rubbed Jinyoung’s back again. “Can you tell me your name?”

“J-Jinyoung,” he choked out. He didn’t know why he said it. He didn’t want to go through the humiliation of being comforted by some father out for pizza with his son who would probably get disgusted the moment he found out all the breakups in question were with other guys.

The little boy, Lou, stood on his tip-toes and tried to hand Jinyoung some napkins, presumably to wipe his tears with. “Daddy, he has a boo-boo!” he said urgently.

“I know, I know.” Handsome dad took the napkins from his son and gently passed them to Jinyoung. “I’m no expert, Jinyoung, though I did recently go through a breakup myself, but I’m sure there has to be a better way to get through it, one where you’re not making yourself sick. In fact, I know there’s a better way.” He extended his hand. “Will you come with me?”

In his right mind, Jinyoung would have never have said yes. But he wasn’t in his right mind. His mind was a blur of alcohol and long un-dealt with hurt, and all he real wanted was an escape from it, a deviation from the cycle he was stuck in. Whatever was happening was something different, and if that meant the things that came after it would be slightly different from the endless disappointment and heartbreak of before, maybe it was a chance worth taking.

So Jinyoung took handsome dad’s hand and shakily rose to his feet. Lou immediately took his other hand in his small little fingers, and the odd group of them walked out of the pizza parlor together.

Once they were outside, Jinyoung snapped to his senses a little. “Where are you taking me?”

“Just down the street. Come on.”

Jinyoung debated bolting, but before he could formulate a good escape plan, handsome dad had already pulled him into a nearby shop with the sign “KIT-TEA” on the window. Lou immediately squealed in delight, charging inside as if this was his home away from home.

“I took him here a lot when his mother and I were going through our divorce,” handsome dad explained. “It works like a charm when you’re sad. Although I guess I should have asked if you like cats, first.”

Jinyoung blinked in confusion, then glanced around the store and realized he’d just been taken to a cat café. Lou, clearly a veteran at this particular café, had already found his favorite cat and was crouched down on the ground, meowing to it happily.

 “Welcome back, Mark,” the waitress said to handsome dad—Mark, Jinyoung could now think of him as. “What can I get for you today?”

“Two green teas, please,” Mark said.

“Just take a seat, and I’ll bring them over when they’re ready.”

Mark led Jinyoung over to a pair of armchairs close to Lou so he could keep an eye on him, and took a seat on the one where a handsome black cat was perched on the armrest. Jinyoung numbly sat down across from him.

“I’m sorry for butting in like this,” Mark said, the black cat, which purred softly. “I just…had a hard time seeing someone looking so upset. And I guess I’ve just had so many people helping me through my own rough times, but you…I was worried you might be going through things alone. Or maybe it would help you calm down if you were somewhere quieter with less beer.”

“The beer was helping,” Jinyoung said, sniffling.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t work forever. And it seems to me like you may have something forgetting for a few hours won’t fix.” He smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, I must sound like a preachy old man.”

“A little.”

“Having a kid can do that to you, apparently.” He exhaled. “Would it help or not help to talk about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“I know how that feels, at least.”

“Probably not. You can safely talk about getting divorced. Tons of people get divorced. But for me…” He hiccupped. “It’s not…it’s not a comfortable thing to talk about.”

“I see.” The waitress came with their green teas, tailed by a tabby cat. When she walked back to the counter, the tabby looked for a moment as if it would follow, then thought twice about it and instead hopped onto Jinyoung’s lap. “You know…you don’t have to tell me anything, but…I’m not the judgmental sort. If that helps.”

The tabby cat started kneading Jinyoung’s belly with its paws, which felt strangely soothing. Maybe his mind was still hazy enough to take that soothing sensation as a sign that it was safe to unburden himself here, or maybe his body was just exhausted from bottling it up for so long. Whatever the case was, it all flooded out—his failed relationship with Youngdal, his subsequent breakups, his feelings of hopelessness and defeat. He unloaded all of it between sniffles and hiccups, all the bitter things he’d been holding in for so long.

Mark listened patiently, a solemn look on his face. When Jinyoung finished, he was silent for a moment as he sipped his tea before setting down his cup.

“It sounds like you’ve never talked about this with anyone before, so I’m not sure if anyone’s ever said this to you,” Mark said, finally. “But there’s nothing wrong with trying to find happiness. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Other than being gay, right?” Jinyoung said a bit sarcastically.

“But you’re not ashamed of that, are you?” Mark asked. “That’s everyone else’s problem, and they’re making it your problem. But it doesn’t have to be, right? They’re bringing that negativity into your life, but it’s not something that has to be there.”

“So  I guess I’ll just stay away from everyone who has that problem, which is pretty much everyone, and enjoy my negativity-free existence entirely on my own, then?” Sarcastic-drunk was quickly beating weepy-drunk into submission, apparently.

“But it’s not everyone,” Mark said calmly. “Maybe this is just me speaking from the American perspective of things. I know things are less open in Korea. But really, there’s a whole community of people out there going through what you’re going through. You’re not alone at all.”

The tabby purred like a motor in Jinyoung’s lap, and Jinyoung absently brushed behind its ears. He knew Mark had a point. He wasn’t alone in a universal sense, and he knew that in his heart of hearts. All the same, he’d never been able to find all the people out there who supposedly understood or would understand. All he ever ended up with were the ones who couldn’t find the faith in themselves and in him.

“Maybe it would help to have a friend you could talk to?” Mark asked in a soft voice. “I really don’t know how good I’d be at that. My life’s not so much of a mess now, but when it comes to love and loving, I guess I really don’t actually know a thing, but if it keeps you from drinking yourself to death and being miserable…maybe I could be someone you talked to?”

Jinyoung looked up at him in surprise. There Mark was looking as handsome as could be, adorably being snuggled by the affectionate black cat, looking so earnest and sweet—and he wanted to help someone like Jinyoung, a giant mess of a human being who couldn’t hold down a relationship to save his life. And Mark, even in the eyes of Jinyoung who had become mistrustful thanks to the amount of let downs in his life, seemed so kind and easy to love, but he claimed not to know much about love or loving. What would someone like him have to gain from such a thing? What benefit would it bring to his life to have someone like Jinyoung in it?

While Jinyoung processed this, little Lou toddled over and reached out to pet the tabby in Jinyoung’s lap. “Pretty kitty,” he said. “I’m Lou, and I’m three years old!”

Jinyoung smiled back, even though a part of him still felt like crying. “I’m Jinyoung, and I’m…a bit older than that.”

“Jinny,” Lou said decisively. “Jinny, don’t cry anymore. Mr. Kitty wants you to be happy.”

“I’m…I’m sure he does.” Jinyoung rubbed the tabby’s head. “I’ll try not to cry.”

“Let’s be friends! You can come to my house and play Hot Wheels!” He mimed turning a steering wheel. “I’m a race car driver!”

“It’s a little late to have friends over tonight, Lou,” Mark said. “But…maybe some other time?” He pulled a card out of his pocket, which he passed to Jinyoung. It was a business card, documenting the contact information of Mark Tuan, Sales Manager. “If you’re ever alone in the world, just know there’s two people out there—and a few thousand kitties—who don’t want you to cry, all right?”

Jinyoung swallowed and nodded, tucking the card into his pocket. He didn’t know if he’d ever call the number, but it somehow felt comforting to have it all the same. Usually at the end of these nights, he was in a stupor so great that the entire world was empty and meaningless, an indistinguishable blur that slipped from his mind, forgotten until it all came back in all of its overwhelming pain. But tonight, for the first time in a long time, he felt strangely soothed. He felt like he wanted to curl up in someone’s lap just like the tabby and let himself be cared about by someone kind and gentle.

Maybe what he needed was a friend, after all.​