The first time Jackson sees him he’s a thin and pale boy with slumped shoulders and the bad habit of gnawing at his bottom lip. He’s introduced to them as Mark, a trainee from Los Angeles and Jackson could see some of the other trainees roll their eyes at him and a few whispering to themselves with mocking smiles. Mark didn’t see any of that; his eyes were glued to the floor and his fingers nervously twisting the fabric of his shirt between his fingers.

Next to him he could hear Bambam mutter something about Mark being quite pretty and he turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. The younger looked at him and shrugged with an easy smile.

            “Big eyes and nice skin, that’s probably why they picked him, isn’t it?” Jackson turned back to look at the boy and their eyes met for a second before Mark looked down again and walked into a corner of the room to sit down like everyone else and wait for instructions.

--

The first three days everyone avoided Mark like the plague and Jackson couldn’t help but feel sorry. No one even tried to approach the new boy and he also didn’t seem like an outgoing person. Always he would sit quietly at a desolate table and eat with lunch without looking up. During dance practice he would stumble over his own feet more often then not and Jackson could see him clench his teeth and work his jaw to stop the tears in his eyes from falling. He was clearly frustrated and the other trainees scoffing at him didn’t help the situation.

Jackson felt sorry for the fragile-looking brunette boy so at the end of Mark’s first week he decided to approach him. Everyone was getting ready to go have dinner after practice and then go home. Their limbs felt heavy and Jackson sweated so much he swore the people back in Hong Kong could smell him, but he still took swift steps toward Mark and stopped right in front of him.

Mark’s eyes rose from his sneaker clad feet to his face and showed him a surprised look. Bambam is right, Jackson thought, his eyes are quite big. An easy smile appeared on his face and he offered the other boy his hand in a greeting.

            “Hi, I’m Jackson. Wanna go grab dinner together?” He introduced himself in English. Mark’s eyes widened even more, this time in realisation, and he gaped at Jackson for a moment. Then a cold and soft hand gripped his and a smile spread across Mark’s face, which made Jackson feel light headed and at a loss for words.

            “I’m Mark, nice to meet you.” It was the first time Jackson heard his voice and it was just like Mark, soft and shy but sweet. “I would love to grab some dinner.”

--

The reason the other trainees didn’t approach Mark was mainly because most assumed he was only picked for his looks and that he would be arrogant and pretentious. And on top of that he also wasn’t Korean.

But as Jackson walked with him to the next restaurant that had some western food he found the word that best described the older boy would be lost. He kept glancing around nervously while biting his lip and looked like he had no idea where he was. Jackson found himself walking close to the other and stirring him through the mass of people with a hand over the small of his back. The other didn’t seem to mind and Jackson wasn’t even sure if Mark realised that he was touching him.

Mark didn’t talk, so Jackson filled the silence between them with endless chatter about everything that popped up in his head. He noticed that while the other didn’t say anything he seemed to be paying close attention to his ramblings and he could see him become a bit more comfortable. Maybe it was the lack of a language barrier or the familiarity of hearing someone around him talk English but with each step Jackson could feel Mark melt against him and see his eyes shine just a tad brighter.

They spend dinner mostly in silence; both of them too busy gulping down their food after an exhausting day of practice. Jackson watched with unusual fascination as Mark’s wax cheeks turned a healthy shade of rose and the fatigue gave way to an exited look. Apparently a full and content Mark looked very much like a puppy and he talked more too.

The older boy started telling him about his family and his life in L.A. His voice was laced with so much love for the life he left behind that it made Jackson wonder why he left in the first place, but he didn’t dare ask the question and ruin the bright mood.

The walk home was filled with soft words they exchanged under the bright streetlights as their breath formed little foggy clouds in front of their frozen lips. A cold wind was whipping across their cheeks making both boys huddle closer into their jackets.

Still, despite the biting cold and the tiredness Jackson felt warm inside and when Mark gave him a wide smile and a whispered ‘good night’ before he walked off to his dorm the younger boy felt like he could run a few laps around the block and still have enough energy.

That night Jackson dreamt of cold, soft hands, sharp canine teeth and pinks lips that pull into the brightest smile he had ever seen and somehow when he woke up the next morning instead of drowsiness he felt anticipation for the new day.