Mark hums under his breath as he fixes himself a before-bed cup of chamomile tea. He can barely hear himself over the sound of the television in the living room and the music blaring from Yugyeom and Bambam’s room. When the leader is away, the children will play. Jinyoung, bless his heart, is trying to get everyone to keep the noise down if they won’t go to bed, but he’s not having much success by the sounds of it.

“What’s the point of calling me your mother if you won’t even listen to me? Are you all this disobedient and insolent with your own parents?! Ah!”

“Oh, lighten up, Jinyoung,” Jackson giggles. “Or, at the very least, hit us if you’re serious. That’s what JB would do after all.”

“The only reason I’m not hitting you is because I may not stop, and I don’t want to go to jail!”

Mark chuckles to himself, shaking his head before he drains the last of his tea and washes his mug. He reaches out and gives Jinyoung’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he follows the sounds of club music coming from Yugyeom and Bambam’s room. On opening the door, Mark’s senses are assaulted by pounding music and brightly flashing lights. No wonder poor Jinyoungie can’t sleep. “Hey!” He claps his hands to garner the youngest members’ attention. Yugyeom catches sight of him first, stopping his elaborate dance routine and tapping Bambam on the shoulder. “Volume,” he says, making a dial turning motion with his hand.

“Oh, sorry,” Bambam shrugs, not looking apologetic in the slightest.

“Twenty more minutes,” Mark responds. He pauses for effect. “I’m dead serious.”

“Okay, okay,” Bambam holds up his hands, looking a good deal more sheepish. Yugyeom all but trips over his feet as he hurries to turn down the music.

“Don’t make me come back here,” Mark raises his eyebrows threateningly, just managing to suppress a smile as he backs out of the room.

Two down. Mark steps into the living room in time to see Jinyoung sitting on top of Jackson as the two of them wrestle around on the floor. Jackson has a grin on his face that’s a mile wide, but Jinyoung doesn’t look so content.

“Jackson, it’s almost three o’clock in the morning and we have to be ready to leave at seven to be on set at eight. Go the to sleep!” Jinyoung digs his fingers into Jackson’s arms and shakes them. Jackson just laughs in his face, wiggling his body and rolling himself on top of Jinyoung.

“I’m not even tired though,” he whines.

“Jackson,” Mark speaks up. When the other man turns his head towards him, Mark holds up his phone on a text message, his finger poised over the send button. “Remember this? It’ll be a few hours before Jaebum will check his messages, but he will see it first thing in the morning. Is that what you really want?” Mark holds the phone closer to Jackson’s face so he can better see the screen, leaning back when Jackson’s hand grabs at it. “Go to bed,” Mark says firmly, his finger almost touching the screen.

A frown clouds Jackson’s face before it lightens to a pout. “How? I can’t sleep,” he whines.

“Try lying down and closing your eyes,” Mark says dryly. He takes a step back, holding his phone away from Jackson as the other man finally climbs off Jinyoung and slouches to their shared room.

“Thanks, Mark,” Jinyoung from the floor, looking five years older than him instead of one year younger.

Mark holds out a hand to help him up. “I already gave Yugyeom and Bambam their marching orders. They should have quieted down by the time you finish brushing your teeth.”

“You’re a lifesaving,” Jinyoung pulls him into a quick hug and drops a kiss on his cheek.

“No problem,” Mark chuckles. “I’m gonna go check on Youngjae, he’s been too quiet.”

“Alright, goodnight,” Jinyoung waves.

It’s late enough for Youngjae to have fallen asleep already–he should be asleep already–but the younger man has a penchant for staying up to write lyrics or compose songs, and he might have taken advantage of Jaebum’s absence to do just that. “Youngjae?” Mark whispers as he cracks open the door.

“Mark.” A shiver runs down Mark’s spine at the huskiness in the other man’s voice. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get too far. Mark steps forward into the room at the same time an arm slips around his waist and pulls him inside. He sees stars flash before his eyes as his face goes crashing into Youngjae’s face. “Ouch! Oh God, that really hurt,” Youngjae groans, his words slightly muffled by the hand he throws over his mouth.

“…Youngjae, what are you doing?” Mark shakes his head slightly, tears prickling in his eyes. As he blinks them away, Mark takes stock of the room. The mattress is spread with a glossy, red sheet instead of the usual white cotton, scattered across of top of the sheet are tiny, brightly coloured balls, and there are a few unlit candles on the floor. “What’s all this?” he blinks, waving a hand vaguely.

Youngjae rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “With Jaebum-hyung gone for overnight filming, I’ve got the room to myself,” Youngjae mumbles, his cheeks turning pink.

“Ah,” Mark nods with dawning comprehension. “Wait, are those skittles on the bed?” he chuckles.

Youngjae pouts. “I was trying to be spontaneous and y,” he says dejectedly. He looks too cute for his own good with his shoulders slumped and his eyes wide, but Mark bites back that comment for now.

“Alright,” Mark nods, stepping out of the room and closing the door. It takes about four seconds before Youngjae understands his actions and then the sound of the younger man shuffling around the room slips through the bottom of the door. Mark waits for the light to go out before he knocks again.

“Hello, Mark,” Youngjae pulls open the door with a smouldering expression. Mark bites back a smile. An arm wraps around his waist and pulls him forward so he’s pressed against Youngjae’s chest. This time there are no mishaps or injuries when Youngjae’s lips meet Mark’s. To his surprise, Youngjae’s tongue pushes something small and round past his lips and into his mouth. The taste of chocolate explodes over Mark’s taste buds as his and Youngjae’s tongues tangle together.

“They’re actually M&M’s,” Youngjae breathes against his lips. “I’ve made the mistake of opening a full bag without being able to finish them, would you like to help me get rid of them?”

If he agrees then the both of them will end up with huge dark circles under their eyes and one or both of them will probably be sore in the morning, but Mark can’t care about that right now. “Oh yes,” he grins.