"Dude, where's the bandages roll? These drawers are a chaos.” Jaebum tries to look thoroughly through the messed amount of aspirins, gauzes and empty boxes of drugs that expired long ago. The fact that he can only use his left hand makes it pretty more difficult, trying to spot what he looks for. Thanks God he isn't right-handed. 

"Ah, got it!” Jackson raises one of his hands with the roll in it, shaking it triumphantly; the Chinese then closes the drawer where he was searching, not without a bit of difficulty since it's filled and overflowing. The fair-haired sighs and relaxes his frown. 

"Finally. Somebody needs to take care of this room.” 

"Don't say it out loud; I'm sure Park PD will make us be in charge of it since you brought up the idea.” The petite space where both males are is the room adjacent to the practices' one, where are stocked several first aid kids. Continuous replacements of materials over the time turned it into a wild jungle of stacked things. Honestly speaking, that room isn't usually used, but at least it's well lit.

"Sit there.” The shorter points out one chair placed against the wall in the back, and JB does as he has been told. The elder (just for a couple of months) extends his arms and right fingers so the brunette, crouching, can bandage his middle finger. “Seriously, so pitiful. You didn't even bend it doing B-boy things.” The shorter chuckles and the Korean can only cluck. 

"Shut up. And don't dare saying 'serves you right', I can make it a whole month of cleaning duties for you.” Jackson laughs a little while he tightens the bandage around the fair-haired's finger. 

His skin is really soft. 

"Yah, I won't say something like that. But it's a Heaven's sign since you were imitating Youngjae's fall. A 'punishment'?” Jaebum narrows his eyes at the teasing smile that Jackson shows and his ironic words. “Done. Does it bother you?” 

Jackson stands up and so does JB a second after, moving his fingers to check if he's ok with it. Well, he can't say it is comfortable but at least the pain has dissipated a bit. “It's fine, thanks.” Jackson nods softly and, for a moment, his mind flies away to everything that happened today, to how his head is a mess, probably worse than the one they can find inside the aid kits. Surely yes. Trying to keep himself as noisy and cheerful as he is always can be extremely tiring in times like this, and let's not mention those awkward conversations he holds lately with Mark. Because the hell they are. 

In a flash, everything crosses the shorter's mind, every thought and every doubt, making him half realize something that, maybe, he would have taken longer if he wasn't now in that quiet room alone with Jaebum. His head is now full of broken connections but anyway he manages to speak out his 'experiment'. “Hey, hyung, can I hold you?” After it, Jackson takes a step to get closer, hesitantly, to JB's face, piercing his eyes with his own.

Facing that everything but expected situation, Jaebum just stands there like a halfwit, before realizing it was actually a question that must be replied. “Err, yes, I guess?” And that said, the Chinese raises his mouth's corners up and opens up both arms in order to get them around his friend's body. Jackson squeezes a little before talking. 

"You know, this is pretty normal there in Hong Kong. It's like a silent wish to get better.”

Jaebum looks up a bit and he doesn't know how, but his bandmate seems to have loosened his facial muscles. It makes him smile slightly. “Here it's definitely not, but as long as it's you I guess it's not that rare.” Both guys giggle and, just while the shorter is starting to set the other male free, a low cough wakes them up. It seems that two uninvited guests have appeared in the supposedly closed door.

"Uhm... sorry, do we interrupt something?” Jinyoung, eyebrows raised, looks at the situation along with Mark, who can't stop blinking, lips partially apart. 

(End of flashback)

"And... that was everything?”

Mark blinks a couple of times, trying to look busy folding the garments he has considered as good options to wear today. The blue shirt and the white one, which in reality Jaebum owns, were quickly dismissed when the red-checked one showed itself between the others on the cloth shelf. The best option always matches with his hair.

"Uhn. Pretty much.” Jackson shrugs nonchalantly as he wets slightly his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, rising his eyes when he thinks harder, searching among his memories. “What did you expect, anyway?”

Mark only hums, without an actual answer for that last question the shorter asks. He didn't plan to question Jackson about what he saw some days before in that little room the day Jaebum hurt himself, but, truth be spoken, it was something that didn't stop haunting him. All the time that picture was wandering around his mind and putting him inevitably in kind of a bad mood; nevertheless, knowing what really happened confuses him. It's reassuring, in some way, but that only opens more doubts in the elder, since he himself doesn't know still how to face what happened last night. Although, at least, the younger seems fine with it, something that only leaves Mark the light work of following his lead. Pretty much like always, like the first time they met.

"Nothing. Just... I don't know.” 

Now that the red-haired has run out of something to do, since he finished tidying his clothes out and preparing his rucksack for the day, he sits on the edge of his mattress, bed already made, as Jackson keeps looking at his own reflection on the mirror they have in their shared room. He takes off and puts on again his snapback constantly, combing his hair backwards with his fingers more times than it's really necessary. 

Jackson repeats that peace a couple of times more before he seems satisfied with the result, although, in Mark's eyes, he looks exactly the same as the first time he simply put on the complement on his head. 

"What? Were you jealous?” 

A sassy smile draws its path in Jackson's mouth, raising knowingly his corners, more one than the other, a fact that gives a mischievous expression to him when he looks at the redhead through the mirror. A dumbfounded Mark looks up with his eyes wide open and his ears slightly warmer, but not as pink as to stan out from Jackson's position. The elder tries to reply; however, the vision of himself wordless and with his lips partly open can only concern even more the boy, worrying about how idiot he should seem in that moment.

"W-what? No!” 

Mark's inner self just sighs, knowing such a big lie it is. 

The brunette then turns around in order to look at his bandmate directly, without erasing that smile of his and adding a brief chuckle to the already distracting face. Mark's pupils go crazy for a moment, struggling against his desires not to look at the shorter as he approaches. But when Jackson's knees touch Mark's, the redhead finds himself looking up back at him.

"I told you last night. It's not the same, you and him.” 

The tone in Jackson's voice is lower. His words, speaking about what happened less than five hours before, send shivers from Mark's head to his toes while he recalls what they experienced together. Together. The elder nods slightly in a slow motion, unable to cut the visual contact they have been sharing for the past seconds. Slowly, Jackson's upper body starts to bend forward for Mark's surprise and, after some inner panic thoughts, the redhead stretches his neck, almost unconsciously. Mark swears they would have kissed if the abrupt, sudden noise of the door opening hasn't made them tear apart, Jackson coughing to hide his obvious-for-Mark unease before the possibility of being caught. 

"Mark, do you have my white shirt? I saw you grabbing it before, maybe? The long one.”

Talk of the devil.

Jaebum, with a stressful tone and wearing a white tank top under his jeans, enters the room without bothering to ask permission, searching and finding in a moment with his eyes the one he mentions; Mark, a bit anxious, clears his throat as he tries to keep a normal peace of breathing. He launches a quick look to Jackson, who is again in front of the mirror and holding the cap in his hand while he brushes his mane —as if he hasn't done it a thousand of times before—, forcing his eyes to keep glued to his own reflection. 

"A-ah, yeah, yeah. Here it is.” 

Mark reaches the shirt he was folding not long ago and tosses it to its rightful owner, scratching after his nape with his right hand. Maybe is he expecting the fair-haired to say something? Did he see what they were doing? Well, not that they were actually doing something. More like starting... What if Jaebum asks? What should Mark say? About him and Jackson. Like they are...

What are they, to begin with?

"Thanks. Are you already done? We're leaving like... right now.” After a brief look to his mobile, Jaebum keeps it in one of his back pockets, putting on then the shirt he has just managed to get back. He was starting to go nuts after looking for it among all the garments on the cloth shelfs the seven members share. 

"Uhn. We were already heading to the van.” 

Mark then stands up, fixing his shirt and the end of his black trousers. After looking at himself, Jaebum nods a bit, content with the soft contrast that is created between his jeans and the white shirt, and approaches then to the mirror, still blocked by the Chinese member, in order to assure his hairstyle remains perfect. 

"Yah, Jackson, stop combing your hair or you'll become bald.” 

"Shaddup.”

Both friends giggle as they try to push each other out of the mirror range, along with the silent smile that appears in Mark's face. At the moment the three of them are about to step out of the room, ready to face a long day, Jaebum stops himself and looks at the others two from up to down, pulling out an amused smile as his mouth's corners raise up bit-by-bit. Jackson scowls as he tries to identify what the hell is wrong with himself, redirecting his gaze then to Mark, since he decides in the end there's nothing strange with his clothes. 

"What?” The younger inquires.

"Did you match ourselves on purpose?” 

The leader exits the room dropping a laughter, almost running when the manager calls his name to inform him about the schedule, like every morning. After that, Jaebum will be the one in charge to catch up the others while they're on the van, heading irretrievably towards work. Jackson and Mark remain quiet and look at each other for a brief moment: it's true and terribly disturbing how —without noticing it— Mark's shirt matches with the red sweatshirt with black sleeves that Jackson decided to wear today.

"I'll... grab some sweater to put on top of the shirt.”

"Good idea.”

***

Only the morning has been an almost complete chaos, a roller-coaster of emotions starting from the moment Mark opened his eyes. When he noticed he was alone on the bed and started patting the surface looking for the supposed warmth from the other body he remembered that fell asleep with him, an empty feeling scraped his insides, pondering for a moment if everything was nothing more than a dream. But it didn't take long before the redhead spotted the younger's back across the room, on the other bed. 

The light that filtered through the blinds' shafts drew Jackson's broad shoulders' outline against the white wall and the elder scolded himself for expecting anything more than that. Although the shorter tried to excuse right away after awakening (without the need of the redhead demanding an explanation) that he changed position only for precaution, since anybody could enter the room. And Jaebum proved that right thirty minutes after. 

Still Mark is clearly unsure about what to think. And the day's ongoing isn't helping much either. 

Before the camera, the last episode of Real Got7 is all laughs and enjoyment, after all, not everyday the boys get to have 'free time' on a real playground. Recording has become with the time into activities that have nothing to envy to usual hang-outs with friends when they were just mere nameless, young boys, dreams about being famous singers or dancers still far away. In reality, however, Mark feels also kind of down. Maybe Jackson's attitude has bothered him more than he would willingly admit.

Jackson touches, embraces and other action on Bambam distract the eldest from fully enjoying the whole thing the staff has prepared for them as a (temporally) farewell for their fans. It's not like Jackson hasn't done it before, being clingy with some members, especially with Bambam. It's possible that the lost attitude of the boy awakes in the Chinese some kind of 'the elder brother he never was' feeling, since he's the little one in his own family. Or maybe it's just something Mark wants to believe. Is he doing it on purpose? 

The matter is how shamelessly lonely Mark has felt during the filming of Real Got7. But he knows very well how incapable he is to talk about it with the culprit. 

"Hey! It was funny, right? I didn't know today's work was going to actually be playing.”

A sharp laugh kickes Mark out from his inner worries, making him blink twice before realising they are up and the day isn't still over for them. With a drop of confussion, the redhead notices how quiet the little room is, looking from one side to another only to find emptiness. The only person who stands next to the chair where the elder is sitting is scratching carelessly his head, finally free from the leather black snapback that has been decorating it the whole day. 

“Yeah. It was... a great surprise.” 

The late reply that manages to grow searching for surface from Mark's throat keeps quiet Jackson, who only stares at the elder as he tries to look normal. An unexpected yawn takes control of the redhead's mouth, giving the boy a real excuse for being so off lately. 

“Tired?” Jackson asks as he grabs a free chair and pulls it in front of Mark, sitting on it at the moment as if he were riding a horse, with his legs sideing the backrest, chest against it. A fair-brown bang blocks his right eye during a quick second, the time Jackson needs to shake his head and get rid of that annyoing nuisance. 

“Yeah. Who wouldn't?”

“Right, recording took longer than expected.”

“Uhn. Playing can be tiring too.”

“Yep.”

Silence falls heavily on both boy's shoulders, thoats' clearings and furtive looks making worse pretending to handle one of their typical stupid conversations. Because it seems something really difficult recently. Mark can't even remember the last time they talked normally. Before, everything semmed so much light and simple. 'That steak was amazing' or 'look, PD-nim got uglier' or 'ok, you lost, wash the dishes today'. Banal matters. Not awkward gaps leaving so much sorrow in the elder's body. Maybe they weren't conscious of what they were loosing. 

Maybe we weren't conscious at all .

“Wher―“

“I wa―“

Both voices run over one to another, forcing the boys to shut their mouths suddenly, trying the two of them to make the other speak first. 

“Go ahead.”

“No, it's- it's ok. You started first anyway. And you're the hyung, right?” 

A dumb smile sketches itself on Jackson's lips, turning his eyes into two crecent moons.

“Ehm,” Mark gulps. “I was just wondering where the others are.”

“Oh.” Jackson looks from right to left around the room, pulling after a face, like he hasn’t noticed they were alone all the time. Straightaway, he shrugs and links his eyes to Mark’s ones once again, now showing a fake indifferent expression through his gaze. “Dunno. They said something about getting food from the staff.”

“Free food? And you’re still here?” The exaggerated tone of confusion and disbelief that Mark uses for his reply, almost in an involuntary way, provokes that pitched short laugh from the Hong Kong native the boy knows so well.

“I could say the same for you!”

Mark allows himself to smile by curling up slightly his mouth’s corners. The sensation of getting rid of a burden is starting to grow between both friends, and maybe the idea of going back to when everything was normal, when they were just both boys who get along well, doesn’t seem that far away anymore. Suddenly, the redhead’s stomach growls, making the two of them snort a bit as a manner of laughing.

“Now I’m really curious about why you didn’t go with the rest.”

“Well, you know; like always I didn’t―“

“Hear it.”

“Yeah, I was―“

“In your own world.”

Mark decides he doesn’t like that trend of ending his own sentences, but he nods slightly a couple of times in agreement. In a moment, the elder stands up caressing his belly, but a stronger grip catches his wrist and puts him down again, on the chair, before he could announce he was heading to get something to eat. 

“You’re not going.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” As he sketches out his lips with the end of his tongue in a quick movement –although Mark is quite sure it wasn’t inintentioned–, Jackson approaches his chair dangerously close to the redhead’s. If the elder would bend a bit forwards, his nose will sink in the brunette and thick fringe of the other male. “You’re not going.”

As Mark’s eyes look down, he’s able to witness how Jackson’s arms fall down, slowly, and how one of them slides through the shaft in the back of the chair where he’s sitting, reaching finally Mark’s left knee. The elder is so shocked he can’t even avoid the touch and finds himself simply looking up and questioning Jackson with his eyes. Meanwhile, the younger doesn’t give up and raises his playful fingers up until the beginning of Mark’s groin; just the moment when the elder finds the courage to put his own hand on the younger’s to stop it. 

“Jackson.”

“We are alone.”

“… They can come back in any second.”

“We can take advantage of those seconds.”

“No.”

“Why? I’ve been wanting to kiss you since this morning.” 

A vague memory of a futile feeling that seems so far away now shines painfully in Mark’s head; how they were interrupted before any seed of nervousness could sprout inside any of them, leaving behind only empty, bitter anticipation. Unconsciously, Mark grazes with a couple of fingertips his pinky lips as a crawling sensation spreads through them. But in the wink of an eye, the hand Jackson wasn’t giving a use to is holding Mark’s as the boy uncovers again the elder’s mouth, fingers starting to get entangled. 

Even though Mark finds this situation everything but right, the boy isn’t able to think straight when attraction finally brings their mouths together. At first chaste, the kiss grows in touches and passion, eyes shut as lips recognize each other. But soon it’s not enough. Jackson’s hand travels up until leaking under Mark’s black sweater, ing with skilled fingers the shirt under it. Mark, shyness and worries long forgotten, squeezes the brunette’s hand with his own while he Jackson’s hair with the other, sneeringly lifting in need his hips to accent the sweet touch the younger gives to him. A moan is wrenched from Mark’s lips when the Chinese bites hard his tongue.  

“Free food always tastes the best!!”

Bambam makes a triumphal entrance after opening the door, sliding on the floor with his knees while at the same time he shakes his hands, a plastic little bag in each one.

In a mere instant, Mark is stood up, rigid and swallowing really hard. The loud metallic noise his chair has done when it fell backwards and reached the floor makes everyone remain quiet, along with the not-that-little jump Youngjae does in surprise. Jackson curses a silent ‘’ under his breath.

“What? Were you fighting?–”

“You lost, Mark!”

Before an awkward air dominates the room, Jackson stands up in a flash, biting his bottom lip in order to hide how swollen is after the previous kiss. With both arms raised, as if he were going to ask a favor to the Heavens, the boy sings his famous ‘I am the champion’ while pretends to tease Mark by dancing and cockying around. 

“I told you I was going to win.”

“What were you playing at?”

A curious Bambam, still holding the bags from before, approaches the other two foreigners, wanting to know what it is about. Because if it’s something funny, he wants to try it too for sure. Meanwhile, Mark can’t bring himself to do anything else than to be still, with a sudden dry sorrow all over his throat and his heart hammering loudly against his ribcage. It’s already the first time they almost get caught… well not that he’s sure no one saw it. However, he hasn’t spotted any weird stares from Bambam, Yugyeom or Youngjae, something that starts to calm the now pretty sensitive boy. 

“You just sit on that chair, like that. Face to face.”

When Mark comes back to his senses, he witnesses how Jackson tries to explain Bambam the supposed game they were playing before their bandmates entered the room before. The elder pays attention to that stupid hang-out the younger has surely made up in less than a minute. But at least, it’s quite reliable, since… well, they usually do that stuff.

“And you have to push with your legs, hard. With all your strength.”

“Ughhh…”

“Come on, Bambamie, show me what you got!”

“I got… seveeeen…”

But despite all the efforts from the Thai, Jackson’s brawny thighs end winning the battle, making the other almost fall backwards if he hadn’t stood up. The chair hasn’t got the same luck and its backrest crashes against the floor in less than a second. A stampede of laughs invades Mark’s ears as he is up to it too, covering his belly with one of his hands. 

“’I got seven’, he said.” Youngjae fingers off with his thumb a salty tear of the corner of his eye, without losing the amused smile in his features. Yugyeom eyes has turned into two thin black lines, cheeks full and pinky as they stand out more than ever thanks to that wide smile that decorates his face. 

“You try, you try!”

Jackson claims airily to Yougjae and the maknae, encouraging this way both males to try it too. After some hesitation, they reach a chair each one and start to struggle with their legs to see who is stronger. Finally, Yugyeom, the giant maknae, jerks up with victory in his hands. Or thighs, better said. Mark surprises himself cheering the youngest among Got7 boys. Since it seems nobody notices what was happening in that room before, he can find peace for the moment, when everybody is laughing and making noise. 

He doesn’t want to throw Jackson more than the strict necessary looks, but it seems that Jackson acts the same way towards him. 

All the bravery from the youngest dies when Jackson defeats him in that peculiar thigh-battle. Meanwhile everybody was playing around, Mark grabbed one of the bags Bambam was holding before to discover the sandwiches they were hiding. Without asking any kind of permission, he’s eating now one of them. Tuna with salad, one of his favorites. 

“Hey, my sandwicheeees!”

A distracted Bambam focuses suddenly when he finds out the eldest eating, making the other laugh and simple shrugs, not planning on giving up on his dinner. 

“Excuse me? I want some too!” 

Jackson, showing a dramatic scowl between his eyebrows, noses over the bag to figure out what are the others sandwiches made of. 

“No way! Those are mine.” In a quick jerk, Bambam protects again the bag with his life.

“Yah! Haven’t you eaten already?”

“No, tsk. I got these to eat later. It was supposed to be Jaebum hyung and Jinyoung hyung the ones to deliver you both something to eat.”

The last attempt of Jackson to make himself with the bag ends up in another failure since Bambam looks quite aware now.

“But they’re not here.”

“Yep. They left before us three to give the manager something to eat too.” Youngjae is sitting on one chair, scratching his nape with a ruler. Nobody knows where it is from. 

Before Yugyeom could say anything else, the door crashed open, showing lastly the remain two members of the group. The boys step in, both grinning and what looks like talking about unimportant matters. The eldest can’t avoid noticing how slightly rosy are the black-haired’s cheeks while Jaebum is close to be out of breath. Is it Mark imagination or Jr’s hair seems a bit messy?

“Oh, you’re all here already.”

“Did you two come running or something?” 

The duo only looks at each other for a brief second; enough for a placid smile to flower in the younger’s lips.

“Yep. I won.”

“You’ll see next time.”

“Another competition, guys… I don’t want to see ourselves for solo debuts.” Yugyeom only chuckles along with some others, imagining that situation.

“A bet! First solo vocal album?” Bambam shouts suddenly.

“JB, JB!” 

Jaebum approaches Jackson only to give him five for his answer; in a moment, both boys are entangled –like usually– with the elder's arm around the shorter’s shoulders.

“Yah! I am the main vocal!” 

A paper ball flies from Yungjae’s hand and hits Jackson’s head. Trying to look threatening, the brunette widens his eyes and stares at the culprit, but the pain the emptiness causes in his stomach makes it difficult. 

“I’m starving.”

“Oh, yes, yes. I got food for you.”

“I love you, man.” At the moment Jackson takes the bag with, he figures out, sandwiches, blinks a couple of times as something drags his attention. “What the hell happened to your shirt?”

The previous spotless and neat white shirt flaunts now deep creases on his surface, lacking some buttons near the neck too. Jaebum clears his throat and pulls out a nonchalantly expression as he shrugs. 

“We we were running, I should have got hooked up on something.”

***

The return trip is quiet and longer than Jackson would have liked. At 11pm, the van’s outlines get muddled with the pitch black of the night and the streets, with barely someone on them, recall one of those cheap movies about gangs and dangerous avenues filled with guns ready to shoot.  

Even though tiredness is evident on both young bodies, it doesn’t stop Jackson, who keeps caressing under Mark’s t-shirt the chest of the latter. Their lips, finally entangled and under the semi-security of their dorm room, struggle to remain silent as the kisses raise up in need. The right moment they managed to get privacy after schedules, their hands were touching every place of the other’s skin, but when Jackson takes off his sport t-shirt, a couple of daring knuckles against the door cut the moment. Again.

“Mark hyung? Are you sleeping already? I need some help. With English.”

Although Jackson nods vehemently, suggesting to just lie and pretend to be knock out, Youngjae’s soft voice plays its cards to make Mark feel the worst person ever in case he followed the younger’s idea. They both sigh, because it’s already the third time and, more than afraid, paranoid or even angry, they’re just tired already. 

“Coming.”

The redhead says goodbye with a simple nod with his head and once Jackson is alone in their room, a pitched cling announcing a new Kakao in Mark’s iPhone startles him a bit. Without any further intentions and only moved by curiosity, convinced that probably Raymond Tuan –also known as Mark’s father– is the one who sends that message, the brunette peeks at the screen of the phone, momentarily illuminated as part of the text is shown.

“What the… when…”

But it’s the name of the emitter what ends putting a scowl on Jackson’s space between his eyebrows. What does even mean ‘Lena♥‘, to begin with? That anything but cute heart pushes the boy to open the message and read it without time to realize he’s doing something wrong. She wants to meet up with Mark? Mark? Jackson only frowns sharper before that unbelievable idea and without pondering it enough, his finger presses the key ‘erase conversation.’ He leaves the mobile back on the night stand as he tries to forget the guilt inside himself.

By the time Mark is back to the room, a good forty minutes has already passed and the boy finds the other male lying on his bed sleeping, eyes closed and calm breath. The redhead thinks for a moment about lying on Jackson’s bed, since it’s the only one free, but after checking that everybody else in the dorm is already in their own rooms, dreaming or who knows what, the boy slides on his own sheets, carefully not to awake his Hong Kong friend. Afraid of doing any sharp movement, the elder limits himself to only set kindly his right hand on the other’s shoulder.

Mark falls asleep while overthinking about if that’s a good idea, turning the sleep together thing into some kind of habit, and sure that tomorrow he will wake up one more time alone.

(A/N): first of all, sorry for my late update! I thought my exams would keep me less busy T_T and between my work and the summer here already it's quite difficult finding a relax moment to write.

Anyway thank you for your patience! Recently I'm feeling a bit unease when I write, like it takes me longer and I'm not that glad with the chapters so I'm sorry if more o less long absences happen again in the future. 

Hope you liked it anyway! Thank you for the subscribers and comments, I reaaally appreciate them ♥