Jinyoung loves the sound of a baseball bat striking the ball. There’s something refreshing about the loud thunk that permeates through the air, that sharp noise that cuts through the atmosphere like a knife on butter. It’s both scary and satisfying at the same time. It’s satisfying because it reminds him of the home runs and the triples and the games they managed to win in the past.

It’s scary because it sounds like the noise a metal bat makes when it hits someone over the head. And boy, does Jinyoung want to hit someone on the head right about now.

Jinyoung’s object of hatred is none other than the soccer captain, Mark Tuan. While those who’ve worked with Jinyoung firsthand would say that he’s generally a likable, agreeable person, there’s something about the smug look on Mark’s face that makes Jinyoung’s blood boil. He’s certain that Mark’s charming smile and easygoing personality has given him a huge advantage in life, and though Jinyoung is not one to be envious, he can’t help but feel as if life is incredibly unfair. He’s no god, but he sort of feels like it’s up to him to... tip the scales, as one would say. Even the odds.

And it’s not like it hasn’t happened in the years before, but it’s the first time that it has happened with Jinyoung as baseball captain. And the type of that Mark pulls doesn’t fly with Jinyoung.

So the first time it happens, Jinyoung gives Mark Tuan a hard time because Mark is pretty and sweaty and Jinyoung doesn’t know how to act around those types of people. The type of naturally gorgeous boys that could make his heart flutter one moment, only to break it into pieces the next.

But it’s not Jinyoung’s preconceived notion about Mark Tuan that irritates him the most. What ultimately grates Jinyoung is that the first time it happens isn’t the last time it does. It happens almost every day, disrupting not only the baseball team’s conditioning but the soccer team’s as well.

The first time it happens makes Jinyoung want to describe Mark in colorful words.

The first time it happens goes like this.

 

I.

“Alright, team. Down!” Jinyoung yells into the autumn heat. “We’re going to do fifty scissors!”

There’s a series of groans as the baseball team drop onto their backs one-by-one.

“Do you want to make it a hundred?!” Jinyoung bellows. There’s no time for weakness now. They have to be in top condition for their first game, which is coming up in three weeks. Three weeks! That’s basically tomorrow.

“No, sir!” The team shouts in unison.

“Good,” Jinyoung says loudly as he too lies onto his back. “Now let’s begin!”

The whole team counts out loud, slow and steady and not unlike a metronome at snail speed. Jinyoung keeps an eagle eye on his team to make sure that none of them are taking shortcuts on this abdominal exercise.

They’re heading into the forties when Jinyoung calls out on one of the freshmen for skipping one of the repetitions.

It’s then that a soccer ball rolls over to the middle of the baseball field. It’s round, painted in that classic black and white color. The ball looks mildly threatening as it approaches one of Jinyoung’s players in slow motion, as if it was a bomb thrown by the soccer team waiting to be detonated.

For ’s sake, the season just started and this is already happening. Jinyoung distinctly remembers that it didn’t happen until mid-season last year, so what the heck?

“Uh, Captain?” Jeongin, a first-year and new addition to the team, calls unsurely as he picks up the stray soccer ball.

“Give it to me,” Jinyoung commands as he stands up, so Jeongin does. “Everyone, you can relax your positions.”

The team cries out in relief, surely feeling the burning sensation in their torso and upper thighs. No pain, no gain.

Ball in hand, Jinyoung begins to walk to where the soccer team is currently practicing, but it seems as if he doesn’t need to move much. One of the soccer players, probably the brainless culprit that kicked the ball this direction, is jogging to where Jinyoung is at. And Jinyoung isn’t salty, but he doesn’t step any closer upon noticing this piece of information. Technically it’s the soccer player’s fault that they’re even in this situation.

The player comes closer and closer until his face isn’t shaded by the sweltering sun. Jinyoung snorts because of course. Of course, it’s him.

The first thing Jinyoung notices as Mark jogs to him is his legs. Not that they’re great legs in particular, but his shorts are just so… well, short. Though his thighs aren’t the most muscular, Jinyoung could tell that Mark doesn’t skip leg day, considering how nicely his quadriceps flex during each stride and how effortlessly he looks running like that. And for a second, Jinyoung wonders how breezy it must be for Mark down there, before shaking the thoughts away.

“Hey, Jinyoungie,” Mark breathes out as soon as he’s near enough to stop. He’s all bright eyes and easy smiles and Jinyoung kind of wants to give his pretty face a double slap. Triple slap if he talks too much.

“Students around here usually call me ‘Captain,’” Jinyoung responds, trying to assert his dominance from the get-go.

“Ah, you’re baseball captain this year, eh?” Mark smiles and gives him a look, eyes shining in a playful manner. Jinyoung can clearly see the beads of sweat making themselves at home on Mark’s forehead, and it’s kind of hot and gross at the same time. “Apologies, Captain Jinyoungie.”

Jinyoung sighs inwardly. He doesn’t want to give Mark the satisfaction of knowing how much Mark gets into his skin. “Anyway, did you lose something today, Mark Tuan?”

“That’s Captain Mark Tuan,” he says smugly, clicking his tongue. It looks like Mark also got the position this year. That would make sense seeing as they’re both graduating seniors, last year of college life and before they have to start acting like real adults. “And yes, I did. I believe you’re holding it in your hand, right there.”

Mark points at the ball between Jinyoung’s hand and hips. With a huff, Jinyoung holds out the ball but doesn’t loosen his grip when Mark tries to take it from him.

“Hey, what gives?” The older asks, confused.

“This isn’t going to happen a lot like last year, will it?” Jinyoung swears the wind whips intensely in their general vicinity at that moment. And for a hot second, he feels as if he’s starring in an old, Western movie. He can picture it now, a standoff between Mark and himself, eyes locked with what feels like electricity.

A tumbleweed and an eternity must have passed by before one of them finally breaks the silence.

“Hmm, why would you think that?” Mark furrows his brows as he gives the ball a sharp pull.

Jinyoung doesn’t miss the fact that Mark doesn’t answer him, replying to his question with another question. It’s not until Mark is slowly walking backward, hands securely on the ball, staring at Jinyoung with a -eating grin on his face does Jinyoung get the sudden urge to throw a baseball at him.

He doesn’t; it’s more trouble than it’s worth, but Jinyoung would very much like to hear the satisfying smack that it would make against Mark’s pompous, self-righteous, egotistical expression.

“Thanks for the ball.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jinyoung squints, eyes shifting back and forth between the older’s face and his distractingly pretty collar bones. “Like, literally, do not mention it.”

Mark giggles, and the sound is like nails on a chalkboard to Jinyoung’s ears. He decides then to settle this dispute before it even begins. Better to blow the fire out now before it grows bigger.

“Who even kicked the ball so far out that it reached here, anyway? Because I swear to god, the next time it comes I’m going to-

“You’re cute when you’re trying to be mean.”

“Excuse me?” Did Jinyoung just hear that correctly?

“I said thanks for the ball, Jinyoungie,” Mark replies as he finally turns around. Jinyoung rolls his eyes as the soccer captain struts away. 

“It’s Captain!”

Jinyoung shakes his fist at him. It’s about ten or so steps when Jinyoung realizes that he didn’t end up scolding Mark or blowing out the fire or whatever he said he would do earlier. Curse his tendency to be distracted by cute, slick, unfairly pretty boys. Jinyoung sighs heavily and doesn’t pursue him, choosing instead to settle matters the next time it happens again. Mark’s too far now anyway.

It’s about eight more steps when Mark looks back, but Jinyoung doesn’t see it because he’s already facing his team.

“Now, where were we?”

“You were about to let us out of practice early, Captain.” 

A chorus of snickers erupt. Jinyoung narrows his eyes at the second-year who he’s positive is the only person with the gall to say that type of answer.

“Twenty-five crunches, Kim Seungmin.”

The younger boy sighs. 

“Yes, sir.”

 

II.

There’s this one quote that Jinyoung wasn’t able to fully understand until it happens to him.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

And while there’s no actual fooling going around, Jinyoung definitely feels like an idiot the second time a soccer ball rolls over to the baseball field.

They’re in the middle of pushups when it happens again. A soccer ball brushes its way past the grassy area and into the brown soil of the baseball field. Jinyoung goes straight to it and picks it up, waiting at the imaginary line that separates the soccer field from the baseball one just like before. He will call this "The Spot" from now on.

And just like the first time, Mark is slowly running his way to Jinyoung’s position. It’s irritating how his traitorous eyes would follow the way Mark’s legs would flex while jogging, and though Jinyoung tries his best to simply not, there’s something alluring about the way Mark runs so lightly. His steps are soft and springy, not unlike the way Avatar Aang would airily make his way to an opponent. Jinyoung is instantly reminded of Aang’s nickname and decides that Mark fits it perfectly.

“Hey, Captain Jinyoungie,” Mark greets, emphasizing the ‘captain’ in a sarcastic tone.

“Hey, Twinkle Toes.”

Mark gives him a funny look, confusion apparent in his face before he bursts into chirpy giggles.

“You gave me a nickname?” He asks, still smiling from laughter. Jinyoung nods his head. Mark isn’t taking it as Jinyoung thought he would.

“I didn't know we were at that level yet. But why Twinkle Toes?”

Jinyoung tries his best not to roll his eyes. He fails.

“The way you run,” Jinyoung begins to explain, using hand gestures to make his point. “It kind of reminded me of how Aang would.”

Mark smirks.

“So you’ve been watching me.” Mark teases with a waggle of his eyebrows. Which-

“What? No,” Jinyoung laughs mirthlessly. “That’s the farthest thing from the truth.”

“Then what is the truth?”

“I just have a talent at observing things,” Jinyoung answers lamely. “And observing people.”

“So what I’m getting from this is that you’re a voyeur.” Jinyoung doesn’t think he’s ever heard a voice this annoying, honestly.

“I’m not a voyeur. If anything, you're probably an exhibi-”

“And that you’ve been watching me,” Mark repeats and clicks his tongue.

Jinyoung pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. Can Mark stop interrupting him? “Do you want the damn ball or not?”

“Depends on which one.”

“What do you mean which one? There’s only one.”

“Actually, doesn’t matter,” Mark says, biting his lips. “I’ll be good with either."

“Twinkle Toes," Jinyoung seethes, his ears feeling like a chimney on Christmas Eve. "If you’re insinuating that I’d even let you anywhere near my balls, then you’re terribly mistaken and unquestionably delusional.”

Jinyoung tosses the soccer ball to Mark, and the other boy catches it easily.

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, Jinyoungie-”

“Captain.”

“I may be delusional,” Mark smirks and gives him a lengthy lookover that lingers too much for Jinyoung’s liking. “But I’m never mistaken.”

Jinyoung thinks Mark gives him a wink, which, ew.

“I think there’s something wrong with your eye,” Jinyoung points at it. “It’s like, twitching, and I’m kind of frightened.”

“Ah, sorry,” Mark rubs the back of his neck. “It only does that when I see a cutie nearby.”

“So I’m guessing it doesn’t happen when you’re looking at the mirror.” Jinyoung snickers at his own retort. Mark doesn’t look bothered at all. If anything he’s just staring at Jinyoung so unabashedly that Jinyoung feels like covering himself.

“You’re so ing hot.”

“Wh-What did you just say?” Jinyoung must have heard incorrectly because it sounded as if Mark just said he was hot.

“I said the weather is really ing hot,” Mark iterates, grinning. He then points to his ears and says, “You really need to get your ears cleaned. I’m guessing they catch a lot of dust seeing as they’re basically satellite dishes on your head.”

“Satellite dishes?! Now hold o-”

“Anyway, thank you for the ball!” Mark interrupts and jogs away in one swift movement, and it leaves Jinyoung reeling because what the ? Who gives someone a compliment, an insult, and then runs away in a span of ten seconds.

Jinyoung’s hand instantly go up to massage his ears. They’re not big, they’re slightly-larger-than-average sized. He must admit that his ears feel hot though, but he can blame the blazing sun for that.

He’s shaking his head, aggravated, when Mark looks back. Jinyoung is surprised but hides it well. They make eye contact for a quick moment before Mark has the audacity to give him yet another wink (Jinyoung refuses to admit that Mark looks good winking) and a finger heart. Which, what the heck? Who even does finger hearts anymore?

It’s then that he realizes he forgot to reprimand Mark and his teammates once again. Curse Jinyoung’s weakness for winks and compliments, especially coming from pretty boys with pretty eyes and pretty lips. Jinyoung feels himself flushing, but he’ll be the first to say that it’s from frustration and not something stupid like appreciation, or worse, feelings. 

Shame on himself for being distracted by Mark’s charms once again, and promises himself that next time, he’ll find out who’s kicking the ball here, and mention to Mark once and for all that if a stray soccer ball comes to their side of the field one more time, there are going to be retributions.

Someone catcalls from behind, it’s loud and nasally and everyone starts giggling at the sound. Jinyoung swears he must have broken his neck from how quickly his head turned around, and one-by-one his team goes quiet.

“Who did that?” Jinyoung demands, fingers pointed out in an accusatory manner.

“It was Lee Felix, sir!” Seungmin offers excitedly, and there’s a hint of mischief in his eyes that doesn’t quite match his innocent face.

“?” Felix hisses as he slaps Seungmin on the shoulder, though the other boy stays unbothered, still looking at Jinyoung with a smiley expression. “That was so you.”

“Felix, ten laps around the field,” Jinyoung commands.

“Yes, sir,” Felix sighs, before staring daggers at Seungmin. The other boy is cackling now, but Jinyoung doesn’t notice because he’s already ordering the team to get into pushup position again.

 

III.

There’s really something to be said about a day being ruined. Jinyoung would like to start off with the fact that he likes Thursdays the most because it’s his least busy day. He has time to sleep in, seeing as his one and only class starts at noon rather than the usual early morning.

Not only that, he has time to eat a nice lunch before resting and going to the field to run baseball practice. The sun is out, and there are some clouds floating by it to offer some cool shade. And the sky is beautiful, a clear blue that reminds Jinyoung of the Caribbean. Even the wind is forgiving today, providing some healthy breeze that would surely be helpful for baseball practice.

And so he tells himself that not much could bring his mood down today. He’s already guessing that, similar to the previous days, the soccer team will find some fun in kicking the ball their way again. He will refuse to be bothered this time though, and instead confront the soccer team’s ace and captain, Mark Tuan, that this type of behavior is totally untoward. That type of teasing should have been forgotten in the fifth grade where cooties still existed and pigtails were unreasonably pulled.

As expected, they’re doing lunges when, like the days before, a classic black and white soccer ball bounces to the baseball field. Jinyoung tries his best to keep his calm. Being calm and collected is the best way to handle tension, and he must be on his A-game here since today is the day that he’s going to put a stop to this.

Jinyoung scoops up the ball and waits at The Spot.

Funny how even after putting a good effort into keeping cool, a running Mark Tuan could ruin his whole concentration. He doesn’t even know what it is about Mark that gets him so irrational. Perhaps it’s the way he looks so unfazed while effortlessly making his way to Jinyoung, so much so that he seems almost enthusiastic at their upcoming encounter. Maybe it’s the fact that his entire being is emitting an aura of confidence that’s a little too close to arrogance, and Jinyoung would be the first to deny that it makes him look appealing. Or perhaps it’s just the way he looks so athletic with his lithe body and agile muscles, and Jinyoung sort of envies it because it makes him appear robust and attractive at the same time and that’s just not fair.

No matter the case, Mark makes him nuts.

Third time’s the charm, they said. What charm were they pertaining to, exactly? Jinyoung doesn’t know. But what he does know is that he’s sick and tired of the same (probably) goddamn soccer ball rolling onto the same (probably not) goddamn part of the baseball field at around the same (most definitely) goddamn hour. Most of all he’s sick and tired of seeing the same goddamn smirk directed at him.

Before Mark even says anything, Jinyoung tosses him the soccer ball.

“This is the last time I’m giving this back, Mark Tuan. I swear to Thor that-”

Mark drops the ball and brings his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, take it easy. The day is too nice for you to be acting so bitter.”

“It’s not my fault that your mere presence makes me go absolutely berserk.”

“That hurts, Captain.” Jinyoung will admit that being called Captain by Mark helps him cool down. “If it makes you feel better, your presence makes me wild too.”

Jinyoung almost gags at the obvious, and tacky he might add, coquetry. Mark picks up the ball again before making his way closer to the baseball player. It’s uncomfortably close, resembling the space between two close friends rather than that of two hostile rivals. Even with such little distance, Jinyoung still kind of wants to punch Mark’s pretty face.

“Thanks for the ball,” Mark says, smiling.

“What did I say about mentioning it?” Jinyoung glares with a hand on his hip.

“To not to.”

Jinyoung raises his eyebrow. “And yet you mentioned it.”

“You’re coming to our game, right?” Mark changes the subject smoothly. “It’s next week on Friday.”

“Shoot, sorry, we have a game that day too.” Jinyoung lies easily. The older boy does a double-take though. Could he perhaps see through Jinyoung’s dishonesty? Impossible, Jinyoung is a master at lying.

“No, you don’t?” Mark says, looking utterly confused.

“And how would you know when our games are?”

“My friend Bambam is in charge of posting the sports schedule on the bulletin board, and he told me-” Jinyoung squints at this part. “Err, I mean, I noticed that it was only our game and the basketball game next week.”

Mark is scratching the back of his neck, and Jinyoung feels a little embarrassed at being caught. But he doesn’t let that stop him.

“Well, your friend must be mistaken,” Jinyoung says with gritted teeth. “I know our schedule, and we have a game that day.”

Mark stares at him blankly.

“If you say so.” He shrugs. And even after all that, Mark isn’t leaving. Why isn’t he leaving? Jinyoung kind of doesn’t want to talk about upcoming games, knowing full well that a few members of his team can probably hear all the lies he’s currently feeding Mark.

“Why don’t you guys ever play shirtless?” Mark asks out of nowhere, ball between his left hand and hips.

Jinyoung glances back at his team, surveying them before looking at Mark once more. “I’m not making my team play shirtless if they don’t want to. Why does it even matter if we play shirtless or not?”

“Shame,” Mark replies softly, almost under his breath, and Jinyoung hates the way Mark almost never answers his questions. “It would have been nice to see you without a shirt on.”

Jinyoung knows he heard this one correctly for sure. He just cleaned his ears yesterday after coming home, Mark’s words about his satellite dish ears collecting dust getting to him.

“You erted little monkey. Is that all you’re after?”

Mark smirks and motions towards the soccer ball. “Anyhow, thanks for giving this back!”

He turns on his heels and scurries away before Jinyoung could throw any other insults at him. Jinyoung narrows his eyes and watches Mark walk away. He swears at whatever celestial being out there for making him share the field with Mark Tuan and his squad of ball-kicking goons.

He swears at Mark too, for being a slick git and for always finding out a way to slip out of Jinyoung’s grasp. And as if Mark could hear his thoughts, the older boy turns around. Jinyoung narrows his eyes, and they make eye contact for a quick second. Then Mark is fanning his shirt like the heat from the sun is too hot for him, and maybe it is, but Jinyoung doesn’t stare any longer.

With a deep breath, he faces his team again. Jinyoung had many chances to barrage him with questions he needed answers to like who exactly is the that keeps kicking the ball this way, and why exactly are they on the team, and can they please stop because Jinyoung will literally sneak into the storage room at night and deflate all the damn soccer balls if another one comes their way.

“So are you guys dating or what?”

Jinyoung almost growls at this, despite the heat in his ears.

“Which one of you said that?” Jinyoung asks menacingly, standing as intimidatingly as he can.

“I heard Yang Jeongin say it, sir.” Seungmin pipes up. A few people snicker.

“What the heck?” Jeongin turns to Seungmin before bumping him with his shoulder.

“You know what to do,” Jinyoung purses his lips and makes a swirling motion with his hand. “Ten laps.”

“Yessir,” he sighs and turns to Seungmin. “You’re a little .”

Seungmin laughs as Jeongin starts his run.

“Alright you slowpokes, back to lunges!”

 

IV.

When the soccer ball rolls over to Jeongin once again, it feels like deja vu. Jinyoung doesn’t even have to ask, the freshman just immediately throws him the ball as he’s done before.

Jinyoung is grinding his teeth together, almost fuming because this is the fourth time in how many days, and honestly, any more of this is going to make Jinyoung pull his hair off. Mark’s hair too.

And just like the previous offenses, Mark is jogging over to the baseball field. Jinyoung hopes Mark can see the pure annoyance that he’s currently wearing on his face because he’s had enough. He's had more than enough. In fact, he's had so much that he's certain he could tear Mark a new one if he wanted.

Today, for sure, Jinyoung is going to give Mark an earful about the principles of behavior when it comes to sharing fields. There are rules to be abided, Mark. And there are courtesies that are common for teams to follow, Mark. Especially when two big teams are sharing one medium-sized field, Mark.

Jinyoung lets out a huff. No distractions this time, just him and Mark and the ball that he’s going to throw at the soccer player’s face.

Mark is still a bit far away when it happens. Jinyoung is staring daggers at him, but almost as if Mark can read the animosity that was surely surrounding Jinyoung in a hazy aura, the older boy begins to pull his shirt up and off his body.

Jinyoung blinks to make sure it’s happening, and sure enough, Mark’s whole torso is out in the open. His pecs are bouncing slightly from each stride, Jinyoung could tell even from this distance. He could see how his biceps would flex a little, how his leg muscles would stretch and contract from each step. And all of a sudden, Jinyoung is feeling warmer than usual. The sun sure is hot out today. 

And Jinyoung’s mind must have gone blank because the next thing he registers is the fact that Mark is standing in front of him now, toothy smiles and in all his half- glory. Mark’s clavicle looks delicate from up close, and Jinyoung kind of wants to touch a little. Just like the sweat that’s pooling on Mark’s neck, Jinyoung’s eyes travel down his body. His s are a dark pink, and Jinyoung almost wonders if the nubs are as sensitive as they look. There’s a mole right at the center of his chest, and Jinyoung can’t help but focus on that part. He wonders what would happen if he touches it but immediately shakes his head because they’re in public for god’s sake.

“Hey, Jinyoungie,” Mark says in lieu of greeting. There’s a knowing smile on his face, a crooked one that Jinyoung has only seen on guys who are confident in their own skin. Mark cards his hands through his hair, and the action gives Jinyoung's a glimpse of Mark's armpit. And Jinyoung almost chokes. He never knew that armpits could be so... hot?

Jinyoung tries to make a sound but kind of has trouble swallowing at the moment.

“Hello,” the younger boy croaks out, giving him a quick smile before looking down at Mark’s body again as if it’s a magnet and Jinyoung’s eyes are metal. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from it, from how his shoulders are equal parts narrow and muscley. How his abs are, though not the most muscular, relatively defined and surely firm to the touch. 

Mark says something, but Jinyoung doesn’t register it because he’s too busy ing on Mark’s body. And honestly, it’s not even that Jinyoung likes Mark or anything, that’s ridiculous. Absurd. Completely out of the question. It’s just that Jinyoung hasn’t had a proper boyfriend in years, so he’s kind of starving for some real-life boy toy who’s accessible for his daily thirst. And Mark is kind of sort of probably his type. And Mark is also right there, willing to be ogled by Jinyoung in his half- beauty.

“Hmm?” Jinyoung has half a mind to swipe his hands on the sweat that’s beading up on Mark’s stomach, but he decides against it because one, they're still in public, two, that’s weird, and three, Mark would probably enjoy it, and Jinyoung most definitely does not want that to happen.

“I said my eyes are up here,” Mark laughs softly, and Jinyoung can’t help but notice how his body shakes with it. What the ?

“Right.”

Jinyoung feels really scatterbrained right now. He can’t even think correctly, much less form complete sentences. Gosh, the heat from the sun is really getting to him. He’s getting kind of sweaty himself.

Mark just kind of waits there in front of him, looking at Jinyoung in amusement. He has his hands on his hips, as if he’s displaying himself to Jinyoung, and the younger boy doesn’t really know what to do with this information. His arms are lightly muscled. They’re slender and sinewy and Jinyoung can’t keep his eyes off of Mark’s biceps. His eyes slide down to the older boy’s forearms and follow the map of veins that make their way from Mark’s shoulder to his wrist. And Jinyoung kind of chokes a little because he never realized veins could be so… hot.

“Can I have our soccer ball back?”

“What’s a soccer ball?” Jinyoung blurts out, too busy admiring Mark’s features. And then Mark giggles, eyes crinkling into cute little slits. And the sound of it is like music to Jinyoung’s ears. And Jinyoung’s heart is kind of racing a little. And has Mark’s lips always been that pink? 

“Like what you see?” Mark asks suggestively, eyebrows wagging in a playful manner. Jinyoung has never noticed how nicely shaped the older boy’s brows were.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung says absentmindedly, head in the clouds.

“Wh-what?” Mark’s confident demeanor falters, and just like that Jinyoung is snapped back to reality.

“I mean no! God no.” Jinyoung is quick to deny. His brain is finally awakening from its foggy daze of abs and shoulders and arms. What the heck was Jinyoung even thinking? This is Mark for goodness sake. “Here’s the ing soccer ball.”

Mark catches it easily. “Right, thanks.”

The soccer captain is looking at Jinyoung calculatedly, asking questions with his eyes that Jinyoung doesn’t really have answers to. Then Mark is walking away now, his back turned to Jinyoung. Jinyoung can’t help but notice how, even from the back, Mark’s body is really y. Jinyoung shakes those thoughts away.

He wonders if Mark noticed how Jinyoung was obviously ogling Mark. He must have; Jinyoung wasn’t exactly discreet about doing so. Does Mark think he’s a weirdo ert now? Is this more ammunition to get under Jinyoung skin? He sure hopes not.

Jinyoung is panicking a little.

Mark looks back at him for a quick second as he walks away, and Jinyoung’s chest leaps at the action. 

Okay, Jinyoung is panicking a lot. He thinks he knows what’s going on, but he refuses to put a name to the strange thoughts that overtook his brain in the last few minutes.

He’s broken out of his reverie when one of his students make a comment from behind him.

“You guys make a cute couple.”

Jinyoung turns swiftly, eyes squinting at possible perpetrators, even though he’s certain that there’s a still a dusting of pink on his cheeks and ears.

“Who said that?” He seethes.

“Kim Seungmin!” Felix and Jeongin yell in unison.

“Y’all are es,” Seungmin hisses at them.

“Ten laps,” Jinyoung commands, pointing at a random direction. And there’s a cheeky smile on the younger boy’s face as he begins his jog. “Make that fifteen!”

“Yes, sir!”

Felix and Jeongin are laughing now, giving each other high fives before going quiet after seeing Jinyoung’s irritated face.

The baseball captain sighs. Thank god it’s Friday, Jinyoung thinks to himself. He really needs to rant about this to his friends. He wonders what Yugyeom and Youngjae are doing tonight, and decides he would send them a text once practice is over.

***

“-for the tenth time. And get this. He had the audacity to take off his shirt and jog over to our side of the field like he was in one of those nineties beach commercials,” Jinyoung rants, fists clenched on top of the table. He can see the way his friends Yugyeom and Youngjae were starting to flinch back every time his voice got a tiny bit louder. It’s not his fault, honestly. It’s all that stupid soccer captain’s fault. Stupid boy with stupid hair and stupid smiles.

Youngjae snorts. “So you’re telling me that the ball rolled ten times to the baseball field in the last four days?”

Jinyoung looks over at him, arms crossed petulantly. “I may have exaggerated a little.”

“Right. And that this Mark guy- or whatever his name is- his master plan is to sabotage your baseball team from making it to regionals by… by…. How exactly?”

Jinyoung sighs and pats Youngjae’s arm. “By purposefully kicking the ball to our side of the field whenever we’re drilling something essential to winning. But the details aren’t important, what matters is the fact that he’s been doing it every day. It’s like he plans to do it beforehand, so my point still stands.”

Youngjae slumps in defeat. “You’re unbelievable. The poor boy’s probably just handling a lot of new, unskilled freshmen at the moment.”

“Highly unlikely,” Jinyoung disagrees with a high chin. “All of my freshmen are already accustomed to the rules of the game. Add to that the fact that we’re already in college, most of the students who tried out for the team must have had some level of experience beyond amateur under their belt.”

“Didn’t you say there was that one kid who was so horrible in his tryouts that he looked as if he hadn’t pitched a baseball in his life?” Yugyeom chimes in, eyes on his phone as he taps on the screen furiously. It seems he’s been addicted to that k-pop rhythm game lately.

“I said ‘most,’” Jinyoung points out.

“Then what makes you think that the soccer team doesn’t have such people as well?” Youngjae asks, scratching his head.

“Because I can feel it in my bones, Youngjae!”

“Are you sure your limbs aren’t just asleep?”

Jinyoung ignores this comment and continues. “They’re planning something, and I want to know what it is. I need to know what it- oh my god.”

Startled, both Youngjae and Yugyeom turn to Jinyoung’s line of vision.

“It’s them, it’s the baseball team,” Jinyoung hisses, lowering his head. Why he’s ducking exactly, he doesn’t quite know. 

His eyes locate Mark on their own as if they were trained to do so. Mark looks soft in his Friday night attire, donning a black baseball cap, a white oversized long-sleeved shirt, and camouflaged jogging bottoms. Jinyoung kind of wants to punch him in the face for looking so effortlessly beautiful.

Among the group, two tall boys stick out like a sore thumb: one because they’re a couple of centimeters taller than the rest, and two because the taller one of them has their chin hooked on to the other’s shoulder. The taller boy is extraordinarily handsome, possibly the most good looking guy he’s met on campus thus far, with sharp eyes, a nicely shaped nose, and pillowy lips. And the shorter of the two, the one who has the cute boy resting on him, has shoulders that, now that Jinyoung thinks about it, he’s sure he’s seen before.

Jinyoung gasps dramatically. Is that? That’s Seungmin. That’s his center fielder. Jinyoung is more than confused. What the is Seungmin doing out with the soccer team? Not only that, he’s getting pretty chummy with the enemy. He’s quite up in the pretty boy’s personal space, a little too much if you asked Jinyoung. Jinyoung is about to march over and ask him what’s going on but is snapped out of his thoughts when Youngjae asks something from the side.

“Which one of those is the captain?” Youngjae whispers, still looking at the group of students that just walked in. Jinyoung shakes his head and tries to calm himself.

“The one in the white shirt and black cap.” As if Mark possesses extrasensory hearing, he takes off the hat and cards his hands through his fluffy hair not once, but twice. Jinyoung would pay big money to find out what conditioner he uses. He’s willing to bet it’s sorcery.

“That’s Mark?” Youngjae says in a tone of shock, mouth hanging wide open. “I thought you said he looks like the prince of river trolls.”

Jinyoung sputters. “I-I mean, doesn’t he? Look at how short he is.”

“He’s not short,” Yugyeom counters easily.

“He has wild hair like a troll.”

“He looks like he could be in a shampoo commercial,” Youngjae adds.

“What about his fangs? Tell me his canine teeth don’t look like fangs.”

“His canine teeth don’t look like fangs,” Yugyeom repeats flatly.

“Honestly, he’s really hot,” Youngjae admits, lips pursing. “If I wasn’t taken, I’d probably go after him.”

“Youngjae, no, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

Jinyoung sees the exact moment Youngjae comes up with an idea, the stupid truth that would haunt Jinyoung the whole weekend. With a spark in his eye, Youngjae leans over so that he’s facing only Jinyoung.

“Ah, I know what this is about now. You’re acting like this because you have the hots for him, don’t you? You want to have Mark’s sweaty body grinding against yours, maybe his abs until-”

“Stop, stop,” Jinyoung covers his ears. “No, god no. That’s not it at all. Yuck.”

“This is how you were with Jaebum-hyung too when you had a crush on him,” Yugyeom snickers.

“No way, that’s total bull-”

“Oh my god, you’re right,” Youngjae says, eyes wide. “And then you got all-”

“Okay, okay, can we please stop talking about Jaebum now?” Jinyoung shivers. His crush on Jaebum was a lifetime ago, please let’s move on.

Yugyeom is laughing at the side now, and Youngjae, though ceasing to talk about Jaebum, doesn’t quite drop the subject about Mark. In fact, he starts to up his very lewd, very unnecessary commentary. “Anyway, you probably got weak when he went over to the baseball field shirtless, eyes sliding down his shoulders to his perky pecs, and toned abs-”

“Gah, no,” Jinyoung lies. Honestly, that’s exactly what happened, wasn’t it? Didn’t Jinyoung’s throat get so dry that he had trouble swallowing? And didn’t his brain temporarily malfunction, long enough for it to forget some actions and certain words? And wasn’t his eyes glued to Mark’s torso the entire time, ogling the way his biceps would flex during every stride of his jog? And didn’t his eyes follow the veins protruding from his arms, like a trail of treasure that stretched from shoulder to wrist?

“No use in lying,” Yugyeom says in between chuckles. “You’re uwu for the soccer captain.”

“Th-That’s not true.” It kind of is, he tells himself. Isn’t that why his chest always had that squeezing sensation every time Mark got near? Isn’t that the reason why, even after all this time, Jinyoung doesn’t have it in him to confront Mark and truly demand him to stop kicking the ball to their side because he secretly looks forward to their interactions?

“Isn’t it?” Youngjae waggles his eyebrows.

“Ugh, some friends you are,” Jinyoung snarls under his breath. Up until now, Jinyoung was ignoring the little voice in the back that wondered exactly what it would be like to kiss Mark Tuan. He refused to acknowledge the way his stomach would make flips whenever a bead of sweat would randomly slide from Mark’s neck down to his midsection. Gosh, Jinyoung is going insane.  “I need a drink.”

Jinyoung gets up and goes to the bar counter, his friends’ laughter fading into the background. Leaning over, he waves to catch the bartender’s attention. As the bartender makes her way towards him, he chances a look at the soccer team.

It’s hilarious. Comical. Priceless, even, that he glances at the baseball team during that exact bit.

Jinyoung squints and feels his heart do a somersault because what the heck? Who’s that guy clinging onto Mark?

Mark is grinning with amusement, eyes filled with mirth as he brings the boy in his arms even closer, and Jinyoung’s involuntarily clenches his fist. He’s seen him before, the guy currently nuzzling his head against Mark’s neck. He’s a midfielder, an all-rounder who could attack and defend at any given time. Jinyoung has seen him play, and he’s strong, though he reckons he could lock him in a chokehold if it came to a fight. The waves in his hair look polished, and there’s a statuesque beauty to his face that reminds Jinyoung distinctly of a smooth-skinned mannequin.

Damn, he’s gorgeous. Of course he is because guys like Mark don’t settle for average people, Jinyoung is almost sure of this. And it’s not as if Jinyoung has any right to be jealous. Mark isn’t even his, perhaps never will be, though he can’t help but feel the sting that accompanies the sight of seeing his newfound crush be so physical with someone else.

It’s when the other guy gives Mark a peck on the cheek that Jinyoung averts his gaze.

Funny how just a few moments ago, he thought he might have had a little crush on Mark Tuan. Crush or not, he saw this coming anyway, even mentioned it to himself in the beginning:

Mark Tuan is the type of pretty boy that could make his heart flutter one second, and then shatter it the next.

“Sir?” The bartender asks, with a polite smile on her face. “What would you like?”

“Ah, sorry,” Jinyoung chuckles nervously. “Just a bottle of soju and a can of beer please, thank you.”

“Coming right up.”

The bartender walks away swiftly, but Jinyoung is able to catch her name tag before she turns. Jinyoung watches her do her work, asking the next customer what they would like before retrieving Jinyoung’s order for him. She has a hold on a soju bottle when Jinyoung notices someone slide up next to him.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Oh boy. He could recognize that voice anywhere.

“I can’t believe that even after school hours, you’re still trying to take up my space.”

Mark giggles. It’s a sound that makes Jinyoung’s hands tingle. “I guess I just can’t help myself.”

Jinyoung shakes his head and turns to look at him. “What do you want, Mark?”

“Woah, easy there, tiger. Just trying to be civil here,” Mark smirks, splaying his hands in front of him. The stare he gives Jinyoung has the younger boy feeling like he’s under a microscope. “And also wondering why someone as good looking as you is spending their Friday night alone?”

Jinyoung blows his hair out of his face. “Who said I was spending it alone?”

Mark’s eyes widen and begin to look around. “Y-You’re not here alone? I’m not disrupting a date, am I?”

Jinyoung laughs. It’s surprisingly easy to converse with Mark. “No, you’re not, but you are getting in the way of me having a good time with my friends.”

Jinyoung points over to Youngjae and Yugyeom, both of whom are waving their hands at him. Mark looks sheepish then. 

“Ah, my bad,” he says, biting his lips. Jinyoung mind wanders to places it shouldn’t. “In that case, let me pay for your drink, handsome. It’s the least I could do.”

Mark’s flirty tone brings Jinyoung back to reality, and he’s instantly reminded of the boy who had his arms around Mark like it was prom night. And it’s at that moment that Jinyoung’s mood starts to sour. Mark’s smile and easy personality had distracted him from the fact that Mark is here with a guy tonight, a guy who is decidedly not Jinyoung, and Jinyoung (and Mark) should respect that.

“Actually, I’m fine,” Jinyoung says, trying to keep a smile on his face. Mark’s smirk falters for a second, and Jinyoung wonders what Mark must be thinking right now. “If anything, I would actually appreciate it if you- if you stopped intentionally kicking the ball towards us.”

Mark laughs forcefully. “You think I intentionally kick the ball towards the baseball field?”

“I’m serious, Mark,” Jinyoung squints at him. “If anything, it’s a little rude, you know?”

“Whoa, relax, I can-”

Jinyoung’s mouth is going on overdrive now, and it’s about this time that Jinyoung should pull back, but it’s also about this time that Jinyoung can’t help himself from going on autopilot. Because Jinyoung doesn’t deserve to be played with, particularly by boys who have it easy like Mark.

“Especially if you already have someone. You really shouldn’t be flirting with other people like this.”

Mark flinches, eyebrows furrowing in bewilderment.

“Wh-What? I think we’re talking about something completely diff-”

“No, we’re not,” Jinyoung persists. “Please, just stop coming over to disturb our practices.”

Mark doesn’t say anything for a while, simply looking at Jinyoung in perplexity? Discomfiture?

“Oh,” he finally speaks, voice unsure. “A-Alright. I just thought that maybe you-”

“It’s my least liked part of the day,” Jinyoung evades. “It’s actually quite bothersome to me and my team. So please.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and it’s then that Jinyoung thinks he may have said too much.

“Got it,” Mark mumbles before gulping, eyes dim and trying his best not to look at Jinyoung at all. “Consider the message received.”

Then he turns to walk away with purpose, and Jinyoung should be feeling victorious right now. Strangely, he feels anything but.

 

V.

The weekend wasn’t nice to Jinyoung, or perhaps, Jinyoung wasn’t nice to the weekend. He had spent the two whole days brooding about whether he had done the right thing.

He must have, though. There’s no reason Jinyoung and Mark should be flirting if Mark is flirty with everyone else. It’s only fair to Jinyoung.

Though Jinyoung can’t help but feel that he’s missing something. Whatever it is, it makes him feel restless the entire weekend. He supposes his newfound crush on Mark won’t go away easily, but he didn’t think Mark touching other boys would make him this bothered. 

The number of unnecessary emotions he felt after that night had surprised Jinyoung. One because he didn’t think his crush was that strong, assumed it was something more fleeting. Evanescent. Instead, it’s more like an intense awareness of Mark and everything he does accompanied by a warm feeling that grew with every interaction.

Much like now. 

Almost like clockwork, a soccer ball rolls its way to the baseball field. And even though Jinyoung knows he shouldn’t be so affected by the simple sight of a plain soccer ball, he can’t contain the traitorous eagerness that’s currently making his stomach swirl in a wave of nervous energy.

The team is doing crunches when it happens, so Jinyoung has no choice but to stand up and ask for the ball. Immediately, Felix throws it to him.

And like a constant, a shadow makes its way towards Jinyoung. From this far, he can’t tell who it is. He ignores the disloyal part of his heart that’s hoping for the pretty boy with the mole on his chest.

But almost immediately, Jinyoung can tell that there’s a slight difference in the way the person jogs, a little heavy on the feet but with more precise movement in each step. The figure is slender as well, very similar to Mark’s stature, perhaps a little taller.

And it’s not until they’re a bit closer that Jinyoung sees who it is. It’s a different pretty boy, moles located at a different place. He tries to mask his disappointment, and he wonders how well he does in doing so. Jinyoung really has no right to be disheartened by the fact that it’s not Mark, seeing as he was the one who mentioned to the soccer player that it really bothered him whenever he would come to the baseball side of the field. Though Jinyoung said that, it’s obviously not true. He’s five feet and ten inches full of indecision, denial, and inconsistent emotions.

Sighing, Jinyoung turns around and calls Seungmin over.

“It’s your boyfriend,” Jinyoung gulps. Sure enough, Hyunjin is slowly coming to a stop near Jinyoung, and the older boy wonders if the soccer player had heard what he said.

Jinyoung hands Seungmin the ball, and Seungmin blushes and pouts as he passes Jinyoung with hurried footsteps. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” he whisper-shouts to the captain, though with the unusual spring in his step. Jinyoung wonders how true that statement actually is.

“That’s what they all say,” Jinyoung snorts. It’s not Jinyoung’s intention to eavesdrop, but he can’t help but overhear the conversation that ensued after.

“I’m not your boyfriend?” Hyunjin asks, looking crestfallen. His eyes are downcast, and if possible, his lips look even poutier and plumper than they usually do. What kind of human is this?

Seungmin goes up to Hyunjin with a finger on his own lips in a shushing motion.

“Not so loud, you dumdum,” the baseball player quietly says to Hyunjin. “Of course you are, but the whole team doesn’t need to know that.”

And almost immediately, Hyunjin is grinning again, with crescent eyes and white teeth and all. Jinyoung shakes his head. Oh, to be young and in love (and actually have your love reciprocated). The feeling must be nice; Jinyoung cannot relate. The two boys begin whispering to each other, and Jinyoung takes that as his cue to leave and give them a bit of space.

They’re both laughing now, and Seungmin is handing Hyunjin the soccer ball. And then the soccer player is jogging back to the other side of the field, but not before looking back and giving Seungmin a soft smile and kissy-face. Seungmin, for his sake, makes a gagging noise. It’s only when Hyunjin faces away from him that Seungmin squeals to himself and begins to sway in place in a grossly infatuated manner.

Jinyoung rolls his eyes. They’re cute, alright, but Jinyoung also wants to feel that. Almost as if his brain was programmed to do so, his mind travels back to Mark. Is this how it’s going to be from now on, with Mark not coming to get the soccer ball on the unfortunate (or fortunate?) times they get accidentally kicked this way? Is Mark permanently distancing himself from the baseball field, and in extension, from Jinyoung? Or is this just a temporary thing? Perhaps it’s neither, and Hyunjin just really wanted to come to the baseball field today to say hi to his boyfriend. Perhaps it’s none of those, and Mark just genuinely didn’t feel like retrieving the ball today.

No matter the case, Jinyoung doesn’t want to ponder any further. He must have been thinking too much because Hyunjin is long gone, and Seungmin is staring at him with something akin to confusion as well as concern.

“What’s wrong, Captain? Sad it wasn’t your boyfriend?” And though it was a playful jab, Jinyoung can see the worry in Seungmin’s eyes. It seems the younger deems the lighthearted comment as a way to reduce the seriousness of the situation, and Jinyoung finds himself being thankful that Seungmin doesn’t make it weird by being too careful.

“That’s preposterous,” Jinyoung lies.

Seungmin cackles, seeing through the obvious omission of truth.

“Ten laps for you, Kim Seungmin,” Jinyoung orders suddenly.

The younger boy laughs at him, but he begins his slow jog around the field anyway. Before he gets too far away though, he looks back at Jinyoung and says, “Just so you know, this just makes it more obvious that I’m correct.”

And then he’s sprinting before Jinyoung could even get any other words in. The amount of disrespect has Jinyoung key smashing in his mind.

 

VI.

So perhaps Jinyoung being a little down at the fact that it wasn’t Mark who retrieved the ball isn’t that preposterous. If Jinyoung was being honest with himself, he’d even say that that’s spot-on. It’s so spot-on, in fact, that Jinyoung hopes that the next time a soccer ball comes, it would be Mark who would approach and collect it.

Jinyoung has never been known for his luck, nor has he been lucky in all the things that he’s done. His wishes almost never come true as well. Which is why, when he sees Mark coming over for the soccer ball, he’s more shocked than anyone else.

With the ball in his hand, Jinyoung involuntarily takes a few steps towards a jogging Mark, the first time he’s ever moved forwards from The Spot while waiting. He shakes his thoughts away when he sees Mark’s figure getting closer.

He can see the way Mark looks stiff as he takes each stride, almost as if uncertain if it’s okay. And that bothers Jinyoung more than it should. He wonders how he’s supposed to act. Should he act cool and pretend as if nothing happened? Greet him with a “yo.” Doesn’t that seem a bit too rude? Perhaps he should apologize for what he said. Start the conversation with “Hey! About the other night…” This could be the best choice? Or maybe he should be coy and flirty as Mark has usually been. Begin with a “Hey, cutie.” Oh god no, that sounds terrible.

But then Mark is already halting in front of him. From this close, Jinyoung could see the way the older boy is expressionless. Mark’s usual grin is gone. Gone too is the aura of confidence that generally surrounded him. He gives Jinyoung a tight-lipped smile, and Jinyoung would consider it cute if not for the steely eyes Mark is drilling him with.

And Jinyoung kind of panics and doesn’t know what to say, because what can he even say?

“Hey,” Mark greets him. There’s a palpable tension in the air that Jinyoung wants to deflate. It’s a little suffocating, and he kind of wants the ground to swallow him and disappear.

“Hey.” Jinyoung hopes he doesn’t sound too tense. There’s an awkward silence that grates Jinyoung’s ears, but he can’t form any coherent sentences right now to fill in the void. Thankfully, he’s saved from doing so.

“My bad about kicking the ball too far,” Mark says, eyes on it before looking back up at Jinyoung. “Can we get our ball back?”

Jinyoung swallows.

“Of course.”

Jinyoung tosses it to him, and Mark catches it swiftly. The older boy bows and turns around in one quick motion, before slowly jogging back to the soccer field at half speed. Jinyoung kind of feels like he’s been splashed with cold water or slapped in the face, though he supposes he shouldn’t blame Mark. He did tell Mark to stop coming over to their practices as it causes a disturbance (it doesn’t), and that Mark heading over is Jinyoung’s least favorite part of the day (it isn’t), and that it’s all very bothersome to have to go through all of it (it most definitely is not).

And oh god, what has he done? Jinyoung almost calls out to Mark, but the other boy is already halfway across the field, and there’s no use in doing so since their situation is not even that urgent.

With a sigh, Jinyoung turns around and catches Seungmin staring at him.

***

Jinyoung would be the first to say that he’s pretty smart. He’s intelligent, in fact. But that doesn’t stop him from doing something so dumb. It’s stupid is what it is, but he has to do it. He’s already started anyway, so technically he can’t go back, right?

“Okay let me get this straight,” Seungmin says, in the locker room with Jinyoung. “You want me to ask Hyunjin to ask Mark which building, floor, and dorm number he lives in?”

Jinyoung nods.

“And you’re going to go there and… what? Confess to him?”

“No,” Jinyoung scoffs. “I’m going to apologize for what I said.”

“If you say so,” Seungmin drops the subject but looks at Jinyoung with a knowing eye. Seungmin texts Hyunjin and they wait a few minutes for Hyunjin to ask Mark about all the details. 

As they’re waiting, Seungmin whistles, presumably to fill the room with some type of noise. He doesn’t need to do it though because Jinyoung has questions.

“You’re close with the soccer team, right?” Jinyoung asks. Seungmin stops his whistling and gives Jinyoung a confused look.

“I mean, I probably know them best compared to everyone else on the baseball team since my best friend and my boyfriend is there,” Seungmin shrugs. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was just wondering…” Jinyoung starts, but he doesn’t feel like finishing because he feels weird about asking it. It’s not even his business, first of all. But he needs to know, wants to know, especially with what he’s planning to do tonight.

“You were wondering…?”

“I was wondering, since you went with them to the bar on Friday, if you knew who the guy was that was all over Mark.” Jinyoung doesn’t look at Seungmin and feels his cheeks heating up. Ugh, this is so stupid. But Seungmin isn’t answering. Why isn’t he answering? Maybe he didn’t hear Jinyoung. Maybe Jinyoung shouldn’t have asked. “The guy that Mark had in his arms when you all walked in?”

“Who?” Seungmin looks like he’s replaying the night in his head before his eyes light up with what Jinyoung assumes to be the answer. “Oh, Minho-hyung? What about him?”

Jinyoung brings his hand together, and it doesn’t make the embarrassment he’s currently feeling go away. He soldiers on anyway because he must know.

“Do you know if, by any chance, they’re dating?”

Seungmin chokes before letting out an animated laugh. “That’s funny, oh man. No, they’re not dating. Hyung doesn’t date, but he does have a crush on my best friend who’s also on the soccer team. He hates to show it though, so instead, he’s clingy to everyone except Jisung, and I guess that night happened to be your boyfriend’s night.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Jinyoung corrects him, but he releases a sigh of relief at the news. So it looks like Jinyoung has been mistaken. It seems that Mark is not flirting with everyone (or at least not flirting with that Minho guy), and it seems that Mark is probably single, and well hey, look at that, Jinyoung is single too. Though on a more serious note, Mark also deserves an apology from Jinyoung, so that is what he’ll give. It seems he’s made a grave mistake.

“But you want him to be, right?” Seungmin replies cheekily.

“Quiet, you.”

When the phone goes ding, Jinyoung almost trips over himself trying to get a good look at the message.

“Okay, so it’s Building 5, 4th floor, and Room #2.”

Building 5 is near the center of the campus, which isn’t too far from Jinyoung’s building. That’s good he supposes.

“Thank you so much, Seungmin. You get -10 laps tomorrow.”

Jinyoung rushes out, but not before hearing an “Awh, I could have used that today!”

He does most of his homework first and eats dinner after and showers and makes himself presentable. And by the time he’s finished and has worked up enough courage to continue his mission, it’s already 11:45 pm. How did time go by so quickly?

He speedwalks to Building 5 because even though he wants to see Mark, he’s not actually desperate enough to expend extra energy looking for him. Plus, running is unsightly, and Jinyoung doesn’t do unsightly things, thank you very much.

So when he finally gets to Room 2 on the fourth floor of Building 5, he finds it really weird that he’s out of breath and breathing hard. When he knocks, the impact of his knuckles on the hollow metal doors sends a wave of tingles from his fist to his elbows.

And then the doorknob is turning. But rather than being face-to-face with Mark, he finds himself face-to-face with another attractive guy who’s wearing nothing but boxers. And- And- Wait a second... A-Are those Mark’s socks???

“Well, hello,” the guy says suggestively, elongating the ‘o’ for a couple of seconds. “I don’t remember ordering dessert tonight?”

If Jinyoung wasn’t so focused on the fact that he’s in his underwear and is wearing Mark’s socks, Mark’s freaking socks, then he would have given a reaction. But instead, he ends up brushing it off because what he said didn’t quite register into Jinyoung’s brain. (How Jinyoung knew it was Mark’s socks, he’s not willing to disclose).

“Hi, I’m looking for Mark. Mark Tuan.”

The guy sighs. “They’re always looking for Mark. Never for Jackson.”

“Excuse me?” Is this guy (Jackson, Jinyoung presumes) on something? And who exactly is ‘they’? What the ?

“Mark isn’t here, sweetie. He usually practices at the gym during the evening.”

Jinyoung does a double-take. “But it’s a little past midnight?”

“I don’t know, man,” Jackson replies uninterestedly. “He likes to practice after a late dinner. Says it helps him go to sleep.”

Jinyoung exhales. Mark really has him going to different corners of the university like a fool. “Okay, thank you. If I end up missing him, please tell him Jinyoung stopped by.”

“Jinyoung. Got it.”

The baseball player bows and swirls around to start walking away, but as he turns the corner, he hears Jackson say something else. “Expect an Instagram follow tonight, cutie!”

Jokes on him, though. Jinyoung barely uses his Instagram.

When Jinyoung arrives at the Main Gym, the one with a wide court and bleachers on the side, it’s half past midnight. And just as Jackson mentioned, inside is a sweaty Mark Tuan, continuously kicking a soccer ball from half-court to the wall. Jinyoung watches him a little, how he cranes his neck just the tiniest bit as he gets ready to swing his feet. How he closes his fists, wrists down when he kicks. Mark’s body twists with the force of it, and the ball makes a gratifying smack against the wall. Jinyoung keeps watching, trying to muster up the courage it takes to go inside and talk to him. 

Mark is glistening with sweat, looking impossibly beautiful under the pale, fluorescent lights. Jinyoung would be content with simply observing Mark from out here, but the thought of Mark seeing Jinyoung staring longingly at him has Jinyoung flushing with imaginable embarrassment. That would be awkward, for sure. It’s on the fifth smack that he thinks he’s finally ready. Jinyoung decides to enter then, hands clapping as he does so. Mark turns around abruptly, eyes wide and looking adorably startled.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Jinyoung admits it stings a little to hear Mark’s cold, flat tone.

“Late night practice?” Jinyoung tries, making his way to the soccer ball to pick it up. After he does, he approaches Mark and gives it to him. It’s so different from their usual roles, with Jinyoung staying still on the field, and Mark jogging over to retrieve the soccer ball.

“Yeah,” he says unsurely, taking the soccer ball slowly from Jinyoung’s hands. “How’d you find me?”

Jinyoung rubs his neck. “I went to your dorm room, but you weren’t there.”

“You went to my dorm?” Mark asks, flabbergasted. “How’d you even know where I live?”

Jinyoung waves his hand. “That’s not important.”

Mark looks like he wants to cross his arms but can’t do so due to the soccer ball. And Jinyoung can see the way the older boy is starting to build walls around himself and close him off. “But that still doesn’t explain how you knew I was here.”

“Your roommate Jackson told me,” Jinyoung answers, opting for a soft, close-lipped smile. “He is your roommate, right?”

“Yeah, though I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”

Jinyoung brushes him off. “I actually came by to apologize.”

Mark doesn’t say anything for a while, and neither does Jinyoung. He thinks Mark might have not heard him, so he repeats himself again.

“I said I came by to apologize.”

“I heard you,” Mark replies, hugging the soccer ball to his chest. “What for?”

“Well,” Jinyoung looks down and kicks at the ground. “I was a jerk to you, wasn’t I? So I’m sorry if I offended you with my words.”

“Okay.”

Okay? Okay? That’s all he’s going to say?

“And I’m sorry for what I said at the bar. I didn’t actually mean it when I said that you disturb our practices. Or that your coming over is my least liked part of the day, and that it’s all bothersome. It’s not bothersome, at all. And you don’t disturb our practices. I’m sure you guys didn’t kick the ball towards our field purposely, so I shouldn’t even be mad.”

But Mark isn’t responding. Jinyoung did not recite a mini-essay just for Mark to not answer.

“If you didn’t mean them, then why did you say them in the first place?” Mark asks, setting the ball down before looking intently at Jinyoung. It makes him feel flushed, especially with what he’s going to say next.

“Well,” he starts, sighing deeply. Jinyoung runs his hand through his hair and says, “I saw you had some guy—Minho was it?—in your arm when you entered the bar on Friday. And you looked cozy with each other. And so pretty together. And I guess I got jealous and angry at the fact you flirt with other people, not just me. So I channeled that anger into you and spouted exaggerated things and said stuff I only half meant. So for that, I’m sorry.”

“Minho? We’re not dating. No feelings at all, whatsoever. And I don’t flirt with other people, and if I do it’s not intentional,” Mark explains. He bites his lips and stares at Jinyoung. “But why… why would that make you jealous?”

Jinyoung covers his face with his hands. “Don’t make me say it.”

“I need you to say it,” Mark says, gently pulling Jinyoung’s hands away from his face. “Say it so I can stop wondering.”

Jinyoung gives Mark an uncertain pout. 

“I was jealous because I like you,” Jinyoung begins, and Mark’s face breaks into a grin, but Jinyoung can’t stop talking. It’s as if a dam had collapsed when he said it, and all his words are gushing out like the water that was once contained and now set free. “I was jealous that I haven’t even gotten to touch you like that. And I actually liked it when you came to get the soccer ball because you would flirt with me, though I hope that’s not just wishful thinking on my part. It’s my favorite part of the day, seeing you run to me, looking like that. Especially when you did it shirtless... And even though it’s bothersome, I don’t care, because I like you and... and... I-kind-of-miss-you-coming-over-to-our-side-of-the-field.”

Mark’s face stays the same through the whole ordeal, a bright grin plastered from the beginning of Jinyoung’s mini rant-confession all the way to the end. “Well, when you put it like that, who am I to say no?”

And though Mark looks absolutely elated, Jinyoung needs to hear him say it too.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Mark asks, stepping closer.

“Do you?” Jinyoung asks. “Like me too, I mean?”

“Jinyoungie,” Mark scoffs, shaking his head. “I called you cute, said you were ing hot, hinted at the fact that I wanted to see you shirtless, and basically flaunted my whole torso in front of you in hopes that you would look at me like that .”

“Okay, but-” 

“And I kicked the ball towards the baseball field every single day just so I would have an excuse to talk your pretty face for like twenty seconds. I even tried to hit on you at the bar, though that one didn’t end as smoothly as I had hoped. But I honestly can’t make my feelings any more obvious other than outright saying ‘I like you too.’ And with that said… I like you too.”

Mark likes him too. Mark likes him too. And Jinyoung wasn’t imagining it. And wait a minute-

“Did you just say you kicked the ball to the baseball field, disrupting our practice, on purpose, just to talk to me?” Jinyoung accuses.

“Really? That’s what you get from that?” Mark giggles and reaches out for Jinyoung’s hand. “I mean, when you put it like that, it sounds bad.”

They’re holding hands now, and Jinyoung feels a little funny because this was not how he expected this day, even these last two weeks, to go.

“I’m just glad you like me too,” he admits, giving Mark’s hand a squeeze. He likes how Mark’s fingers fill up the empty spaces between his. But Mark is stepping even closer than before, until he’s right up against Jinyoung. And from this point of view, Jinyoung can easily see the slight difference in height between them.

“Can I kiss you?”

Jinyoung nods, can’t say no, doesn’t want to.

They both lean forward, speed slow like a child first learning how to ride a bike the way they’re trying to learn about each other. They meet halfway, lips on lips, and there are sparks and a lot of touching and heavy breathing and something that feels a little like euphoria. Just like that, they go from zero to first base in a matter of seconds. Jinyoung has to consciously stop himself from lifting his damn foot because this is it, this is their first kiss. And kissing someone has never felt so good, so right, so there’s that.

And they kind of just envelop each other, Jinyoung with his hands clasped behind Mark’s back, eyes closed and languidly exploring each other’s mouths. Jinyoung feels like he’s at a Ball, and they’re the centerpiece with spotlights on them. Mark has his hands on Jinyoung’s hips, and they’re swaying a little bit, moving to a beat only they can seem to hear.

Jinyoung jumps when the gym gives a loud click, and the whole room turns pitch black.

“What’s happening?” Jinyoung asks, clutching at Mark tightly.

“The lights turn off automatically at 1:00 am.”

“It’s already 1:00? I haven’t finished my homework yet.”

Mark giggles. “I’m sure you’re fine. Walk me home?”

Jinyoung nods before realizing that Mark probably can’t see much of him. “It would be my pleasure.”

***

The walk back goes like this:

 

With Mark reaching for Jinyoung’s hand. He curls his fingers with Jinyoung’s, and the younger boy feels his heart stuck in his throat. The wind is whipping and the chilly air is unforgiving, but somehow Jinyoung feels warm still, steady still.

 

With Jinyoung coaxing a date out of Mark.

“You still haven’t said you’ve forgiven me, by the way,” Jinyoung tells him, trying his hardest not to skip.

Mark snickers. “I’ll only forgive you if you go on a date with me.”

“That’s basically blackmail.” Jinyoung scoffs, swinging their hands together.

“Is it though? If you want to go to lunch with me?” 

“How do you know I even want to go to lunch with you?”

“Well do you? Want to go to lunch with me tomorrow, I mean?” Mark smirks, taking their entwined fingers close to his lips and kissing Jinyoung’s.

Jinyoung smiles. “I’d love to.”

 

With Mark pinning Jinyoung to the elevator. Perhaps they’ve liked each other for longer, held their feelings to themselves because they’re kissing again. And Mark can’t seem to have enough of Jinyoung, and Jinyoung definitely doesn’t want Mark to stop. 

They only have four floors though before the door opens again, so Mark doesn’t waste time and keeps going, diving in even further, if that’s even possible. And Jinyoung’s hands are still pinned at the top, but he doesn’t stop either, gives as good as he gets, so much so that he’s sure his head has bumped into the elevator wall at least five times. 

When the elevator slowly stops at the fourth floor, Mark and Jinyoung step apart, dusting off the imaginary lint from their clothes, looking as if they weren’t just each other’s face the last few seconds.

 

With Jinyoung saying good night to Mark.

“Come on, I have to go.” Jinyoung says in between kisses. They’re next to the door of Mark’s dorm.

“Do you really have to though?” Mark tries, mouthing the words onto Jinyoung’s neck.

“It tickles,” Jinyoung says, erupting into giggles. He wants Mark to continue though. “I really have to finish my homework.”

That must be the deciding blow, seeing as Mark probably knows how important school is to Jinyoung. Mark sighs. “If you’re sure.”

Jinyoung shakes his head but gives Mark a kiss on the cheek. “Good night.”

“Good night, Jinyoungie.”

 

They text each other that night, talking about the plan for tomorrow’s lunch, where they should meet, at what time, and that they should go to sleep and have sweet dreams.

Their lunch date goes like this:

 

With Mark leading him by the back. It’s like a hot touch, and Jinyoung likes how warm it makes him feel. “Three years of going to this university, and I still have yet to try the pastries in this cafe.”

“Surprising.” Mark chuckles, guiding them to an empty table.

“What’s more surprising is you passing all your classes for three whole years.”

Mark scoffs, but Jinyoung is quick to nuzzle into him. “Too harsh? Feel free to insult me.”

“You’re unbelievable, Jinyoungie.”

 

With Jinyoung insisting that he should pay for half the meal.

“Just let me pay, Jinyoungie,” Mark sighs, stealing the bill from Jinyoung’s fingers. “It’s only two drinks and four different types of pastries. My wallet can handle it.”

“And my wallet can’t?” Jinyoung asks. “I’m not saying that you don’t have the ability to do so. I’m just saying that I should pay for my half at least.”

“And I’m saying that it’s my pleasure,” Mark iterates. “Let me be nice. I want to treat you. What’s so wrong with that?”

“I’m not a charity, and I don’t want to be treated like one.”

“I’m not treating you like a charity, Jinyoungie,” Mark explains, voice even and calm as he smooths away Jinyoung’s pout. “I really like you, so I want to spoil you. I"m treating you like how I would want to treat someone I like.”

Jinyoung lets out a defeated sigh. “Okay. How about this: You let me pay for half of this, and you can treat me next time, alright? I promise I won’t say a word.”

“Deal.”

 

With Mark and Jinyoung getting to know more about each other.

“I’m serious. Watching plays is my thing,” Jinyoung laughs. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t peg you for a theater person.”

“And I didn’t peg you to be a martial arts person, yet here we are.”

“I guess we know what our second date would be then.” Mark says through a mouthful of Songpyeon .

“And that would be?” Jinyoung questions, slurping on his americano.

“A musical, of course. Your choice.”

Jinyoung gives him a soft smile. “Have you heard of Hamilton?”

 

With Mark asking Jinyoung to be his boyfriend. “We’d be so good together, Jinyoungie.” He says into the younger boy’s mouth. “Don’t you think?”

 

With Jinyoung saying yes. “You’re right,” Jinyoung breathes into Mark. “So good.”

 

VII.

The seventh time it happens isn’t the last time it does, but Jinyoung wants it that way.

Seungmin takes the ball this time though, waiting at The Spot before his shoulders sag, turning to Jinyoung with an annoyed “It’s your boyfriend.”

Jinyoung doesn’t say anything, just takes the ball and jogs towards Mark to meet him halfway. He hopes none of his team members can hear Mark or Jinyoung.

“Here you go, babe.” Jinyoung says, cheeks going pink at the new nickname. He’s not quite used to calling Mark 'babe.' Mark takes it with a smirk.

“See you tonight?” The soccer captain asks, biting his lip.

“I'll be waiting in my dorm.”

"And can I get to second base today?" Mark asks playfully.

"Maybe third, if you're lucky." Jinyoung winks.

Jinyoung and Mark peck each other on the lips, and the younger knows that the back of his neck and ears must look like tomatoes right now. Jinyoung turns back and goes, but not before Mark gives him a light tap on the .

When he gets close to his team members, everyone is silent, presumably shocked from what just transpired in the last couple of minutes.

Yang Jeongin breaks the silence though.

“Are you guys actually dating?”

Jinyoung rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, kind of.”

“I knew it!” Someone says from the side. Jinyoung thinks the voice belongs to Felix.

There’s a chorus of whoops and yays and so cutes !

“Finally, I thought I would suffocate from the amount of hanging in the air!” Seungmin teases, but Jinyoung's head is too high in the clouds to care about it.

After practice, Mark waits for Jinyoung by the bleachers. He’s leaning on it with a duffle bag on his shoulder and a soccer ball in hand, sweaty hair matted to his forehead. The younger has to admit that he looks really attractive like that.

“Ready to go?” Mark asks coolly. Jinyoung can’t believe his luck.

“I’m ready.”