Sometimes Mark slips up.

He’s wandering through another one of Jinyoung’s labyrinths, a test for the second level of the dream, a building full of music studios that the subject had once worked in. Mark’s projections, the staff of the entertainment company, probably, mill around, girls clad in oversized graphic print shirts and tights and harried producers carrying files of documents and CDs, as if he isn’t there.

“I can’t get the layout for the dance studio right,” Jinyoung’s complaining through an earpiece from somewhere upstairs in the office levels, watching Mark through the security cameras they need to observe the subject later. “What kind of floor do they use anyway? And Bambam’s ridiculously unhelpful every time I ask for advice.”

“By ridiculously unhelpful,” Mark’s observing himself critically in the full-length mirrors of the room- the skinny jeans and white tank top he’s wearing make him feel uncharacteristically liberated (and possibly self-conscious). “You mean he’s trying to get details about your love life with Jaebum, right?”

“We do not,” Jinyoung snaps, probably flushing madly. “Have a love life. Focus on the task at hand, hyung.”

“Wait, you don’t?” Mark’s rather enjoying himself. “All those nights holed up in the office on the PASIV, then-…”

“We’re doing tests. Important tests.”

“Sure,” Mark’s grinning, but it’s undeniable he feels an odd sort of emptiness, recalling the way Jinyoung and Jaebum look at each other all the time. He can’t describe the look in their eyes- a quiet sort of confidence, automatic trust, tinged with concern and affection built over hundreds of secrets shared between the two of them, and for one wild, crazy moment, he’s envious, almost. “Tests. Of course.”

“Dance floor,” Jinyoung says firmly. “Does it look legit.”

“Why are you asking me,” Mark scoffs, barely turning around to look at the sound of the door opening behind him. “Not like I’m some famous pop group dancer-…oh, Jackson?”

It isn’t uncommon for Mark to project the rest of them into the dream, mostly by accident, especially when he’s relaxed or focused on other things at hand. He’s proud to note most of his projections are ridiculously close to the real thing, especially Jaebum and especially when it comes to his nagging, but it’s awfully compromising at the same time. Jackson had spoken with Mark’s projection of Bambam once and come to the disturbingly accurate conclusion that Mark thought the boy was overly whiny, and the architect hadn’t spoken to him for a week.

“Hey Jackson,” Mark grins anyway, knowing that projection-Jackson would stick up for him for sure. The man’s walking towards him, looking oddly comfortable in a baggy black tee and jeans, snapback on front side back, a ridiculously attractive half-smirk on his face. “Jinyoung says he and Jaebum don’t have a love-…”

He trails off, noting that Jackson hasn’t stopped walking, and takes an instinctive step back, voice a little more uncertain. “…-don’t have a love life-…”

And Jackson cuts him right off by reaching to curl an arm around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, before fitting their lips together in a kiss.

One and a half seconds after Mark gets over the shock and assures himself he isn’t going to get an aneurysm and die on the spot, he realises that Jackson’s lips are very nice to kiss. Then he wishes he’d had an aneurysm, because that is not what he wants to be thinking about Jackson’s lips.

Jackson is a co-worker. A business contact. A friend. And Mark shouldn’t think his friend’s lips are nice to kiss.

He’s enlightened, then, to the fact that Jinyoung is screaming at him through the earpiece sentences running vaguely along the line of you freaking hypocrite and how are you guys not dating and you had the gall to bring up my love life and Mark shoves projection-Jackson away, telling himself to ignore the look of shock and hurt that crosses the man’s face.

He’s a projection. He’s not real. Jackson wouldn’t kiss you, would he?

Mark repeats that phrase as a mantra in head as the world starts to dissolve, fading into an inky blackness as time runs out on the PASIV, and he opens his eyes.

Jinyoung’s looking at him with a cross of the most surprised and smug expression he’s ever seen when he blinks awake, and it takes the promise of a week’s worth of Starbucks and that he’ll never tell Bambam what he’d seen on the dream log before the younger man agrees not to drag Jackson over right away and tell him what he’d seen.

*

It gets progressively worse over the next few weeks.

Now that Mark knows what Jackson’s kisses feel like, it’s all he can think about every time he dreams. And apparently Jinyoung’s caught wind of that, because he’s finding all sorts of excuses for people to bring Mark into their dreams.

It’s impossible to go one dream now without bumping into Jackson once and being dragged into liplock sessions of increasing durations, and the worse part? Mark honestly can’t say he minds.

Which isn’t right, because Mark doesn’t think Jackson wants to kiss him, and he shouldn’t want Jackson to kiss him either, right?

Right?

It’s getting progressively harder to maintain that notion when every dream (and hence every kiss) sends him spiralling further into this crazy idea that he might just be in love with Jackson.

The days consist of almost religiously avoiding Jackson in every dream, asking for a kick as soon as possible, flipping the totem in his pocket over and over again every minute to convince himself of what’s real and what’s nothing but a dream.

And apparently that’s translating into his behaviour in real life too, because-…

“Hey, did I do something?” Jackson asks one night, and Mark’s unsettled by the degree of hurt in his voice. He presses a finger to his totem, swearing silently when he confirms this is reality.

“What? No,” Mark rearranges his notes compulsively, fingers cold with anxiety. “No, you didn’t do anything.”

You certainly didn’t kiss me. Not in reality anyway.

“Hey, if something’s wrong,” Jackson’s frowning. “You know you can just tell me, right?”

“Sure,” Mark nods, making sure not to meet Jackson’s eyes as he attaches a paper clip to a stack of papers. "I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Or- or tell Jaebum or something, I don’t care, just-…don’t keep it in,” Jackson presses on uncomfortably. “Are you sure? That there’s nothing wrong, I mean.”

“Yes,” Mark can’t help the hint of urgency in his voice. His knuckles are white around the sheets of paper. “Everything’s fine.”

He keeps his back to Jackson until he feels the other man finally leave, before deflating onto his chair, hands clammy and heart thudding a marathon in his chest.

*

“You know, hyung,” Yugyeom comments over his shoulder a few days later. “Projections of our subconscious reflect our desires with respect to the people around us.”

Mark takes one second to absorb the full meaning of what the maknae’s just said, before turning around in his chair, murderous.

“I am going to kill Park Jinyoung-…”

“So it’s true,” Yugyeom raises a brow, looking amused, and Mark blinks, understanding what the younger man’s just said.

“Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

“Well, with the way you’re acting around Jackson-hyung, it’s obvious enough, honestly,” Yugyeom rolls his eyes. “That and Bambam saw you two making out during his last test run.”

Mark collapses into his chair, cradling his face in his hands. “,” then looking uncertainly over, in a smaller voice, “don’t tell him, okay?”

“Hyung,” Yugyeom says firmly. “You have to settle this with him. You can’t keep avoiding him like this, you know that, right?”

“I can and I will,” Mark deflects the statement, making as though to return to his work.

He’s literally spun around in his chair by Yugyeom, and grips the armrests in shock, leaning back instinctively.

“Hyung,” Yugyeom says seriously. “I told Bambam not to interfere but I had no idea it was this bad, hyung, can’t you tell he’s completely in love with you?”

“I’m not-…wait, what?” Mark scrambles to wrap his mind around what Yugyeom’s just said. “No. What? He is?”

Yugyeom looks incredulous. “Hyung, he buys coffee for you. He disturbs you on an hourly basis to make sure you stay talking to all of us. He keeps his side of the table clean, and this literally pains him, so you don’t haemorrhage all over his mess. You’re the only one out of the five of us he hasn’t ever tried to impersonate because he knows he’ll never be able to do you justice. If you’ve spoken with his projection of Jaebum you’ll see he’s a total jerk because Jackson-hyung’s jealous of how close you are to him. And this week he’s been following you around like a kicked puppy while you avoid him because all you can dream about is making out with him.”

Mark thinks he’s having difficulty breathing. “That doesn’t mean he’s in love with me.”

“And Jinyoung-hyung and Jaebum-hyung aren’t totally smitten,” Yugyeom sighs. “Hyung, you’re totally in denial.”

“I heard love and denial several times,” to Mark’s horror, Bambam struts over enthusiastically. “Has Mark-hyung finally discovered his major crush on Jackson?”

“I’m not,” Mark stresses, voice lowered, looking around nervously for Jackson, noting thankfully that he’s on the other side of the warehouse. “Besides, he probably doesn’t even like me that way.”

Both Bambam and Yugyeom scoff simultaneously. It’s extremely demeaning.

“We understand this is some big news for you to take, hyung, but it’s honestly about time,” Bambam rolls his eyes.

“Watching your mating rituals for the past year was funny, but it’s getting painful now,” Yugyeom adds. “You have to settle this with him somehow.”

“Both of you are unbelievable,” Mark’s sure he’s flushing from head to toe right now. “As if he’ll ever-…”

“So do cold shoulder privileges only apply to those born after a certain year, or,” Mark stiffens instinctively at the weak laugh from behind him- Bambam disappears back to his table after a meaningful look in Mark’s direction (that brat) and Yugyeom turns back to his work pointedly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mark says shortly, straightening his notes out.

After a pause that stretches too long, Yugyeom’s chair squeaks as he turns around.

“Mark-hyung’s feeling a little sick,” he offers. Bambam coughs out something that sounds suspiciously like lovesick from his bench, and Mark makes a mental note to photoshop his face onto hamster bodies later. He sneaks a glance back at Jackson, but the other man hasn’t moved an inch.

“Why didn’t you say?” he feels a gentle nudge in between his shoulder blades, hears the frown in the other man’s voice.

His heart rate takes an unhealthy spike as warm hands press against his forehead from behind and against the side of his neck, and jerks away instinctively.

“Jackson-…” he’s standing, suddenly, breathing heavily, trying not to look the other man in the eye. “Look, just-…I don’t know, just don’t, okay?”

Because I don’t think I’d be able to hold back if you do.

The look in Jackson’s eyes manages to make everything ten times worse than it already is (and that’s saying something) and Mark feels something bitter rise at the back of his throat.

“Okay,” Jackson takes a step back, hands falling limply to his sides. “Okay.”

Then, after what feels like an eternity, the other man turns stiffly, and walks back to his table, shoulders hunched, and Mark feels like the world’s biggest .

Yugyeom’s got a point.

*

Mark convinces himself that it isn’t just because of whatever it is that’s happening to him- he needs to fix their work dynamic, needs to straighten things out between them because it’s not Jackson’s fault this is happening, not any of theirs, and he can’t screw things up just because of some stupid dreams he’s been having.

So he prepares the most elaborate explanation in his head (something along the lines of a long-forgotten burden held in his heart related to the time his brother had stolen his packet of chocolate milk and how his best friend in LA could never appreciate his love for cat videos) and plots out a great time to take Jackson aside and explain how this was all some great misunderstanding, and his appreciation if they could just go back to the way they were before this.

It’s a great plan. Except it isn’t, because that isn’t what he really wants at all.

(Mark manages to ignore that part, though.)

So he decides that by the end of this week, everything should go back to normal, and if he does happen to keep thinking Jackson’s lips are nice to kiss, well, that secret’s going to stay what it is- a secret.

*

Mark slumps back against the wall of the near deserted building complex, rubbing his eyes tiredly- he can’t remember which test this is, but he’s tired and grumpy and nervous and all he wants is for time to finally run out on the PASIV so they can go home.

He reshuffles his notes in his hand, tugging a pen out of his pocket blankly and trying to remember what it is he’s supposed to be observing, when he hears footsteps rounding the corner, and tenses instinctively, hands gravitating towards the gun at his waist.

When a familiar shape appears, barely visible in the dim light, though, Mark relaxes, sighing softly.

“They want us back at base,” projection-Jackson says, and Mark nods tiredly. His shoes scrape the cracked cement, kicking up clods of dirt, and he takes a moment to marvel inwardly at the detail Bambam’s put into this latest dreamscape, despite the fatigue.

Jackson draws a little closer, then, and Mark barely looks up, used to this ritual by now. He doesn’t even wait for Jackson to make the first move, instead stepping forward and winding his hands around the other man’s upper arms, pulling him closer, pressing his lips to his.

It takes a little longer for projection-Jackson to start into movement against him this time. Maybe his subconscious knows that reality-Jackson hates him too, and is starting to reflect that. Mark shivers at the thought of reality-Jackson ever seeing this, which pretty much translates into reality-Jackson hating him for life.

He pulls away, registering, with a little confusion, the wholehearted surprise on Jackson’s face. This is new. He wonders what it is in his subconscious that would result in this new development, before deciding it’s too late to think about this now and all he wants to do (ironically) is to wake up and go home.

“Mark?” Projection-Jackson says, a little uncertainly, then, and there’s something uncomfortably real about the way his large eyes are fixed on him in puzzlement, the way he’s leaning away ever so slightly, and Mark’s hand instinctively goes into his pocket even though he’s quite sure this can’t be-…

His fingers close around his totem, and his eyes widen.

“Oh ,” Mark stumbles back, hands reaching up to wind into his hair, everything he’d planned in his head going to complete shambles. He’s scrambling desperately for all the rules- did you remember how you got here? Doesn’t anything seem strange? Do the people ignore you? “ I am so sorry-…”

That’s it, he’s done for, he’s dead.

Reality-Mark has just kissed reality-Jackson and is now doomed to a lifetime of isolation on a tiny island in the middle of nowhere to reflect on his terrible mistake and now Jackson’s striding up to probably kill him or demand an explanation-…

And then suddenly they’re kissing again and Mark honestly has no idea how things have led to this.

“You’ve no idea-,” Jackson grits out against his lips, and wow, that’s an entirely new sensation Mark’s subconscious was not aware of before. “How long-…” the way Jackson’s blunt nails dig shallow creases into the fabric of Mark’s shirt are making him dizzy in ways embarrassingly unspeakable. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that.”

“Wait,” Mark chokes out, partly due to shock and partly due to the way Jackson’s kissing up the side of his neck. “Wait, you wanted that?”

“You,” Jackson says after a lengthy pause. “Need to stop talking.”

“But when-…”

Mark is gladly interrupted by aforementioned kissing, and when they part next, gasping for breath, he’s formed a thesis statement acknowledging that he thinks Jackson’s lips are exceptional for kissing, and that Jackson might just possibly feel the same way about his.

*

(Jaebum’s the first one to realise, of course- but at least he’s polite enough to just raise a brow when Mark and Jackson get back late for debrief, slightly breathless and ragged, and Mark stutters out an excuse about forgetting the time.

Jinyoung hides a knowing smile behind a stack of notes three days later when Jackson accidentally calls Mark babe whilst passing him a folder of photos, thankfully quiet enough so the maknaes don’t hear, and Mark’s furious with him for forty whole minutes, until Jackson presents a peace offering of the older man’s favourite coffee and all wrongs are grudgingly forgiven.

Yugyeom doesn’t even seem surprised when he walks in on Jackson pressing kisses on Mark’s cheek one evening, just snickering and retrieving his files from his desk beside Mark’s, while the older man flushes madly, with a teasing warning of don’t make me have to run a blacklight over my desk later, hyung, which just makes the blushing worse.

No one, however, can beat Bambam, who shouts out clear from all the way on the other side of the warehouse a triumphant HAH when he apparently catches the way Mark’s standing behind Jackson at his desk, absently carding his hands through Jackson’s hair, before walking out with his models of the newest dreamscape with an extremely pleased look on his face.

Mark hates all of them, really, he does. Which, according to Jackson, in Mark-speak, means he loves them all to the ends of this earth. Because he can’t hate anyone more than he hates Jackson.)

*

“Those weeks of avoidance, though-…” Jackson starts indignantly.

“Eleven days and ten hours,” Mark corrects, flicking on the lights in his apartment. It’s amazing, how long it’d taken after the accidental (it was destiny, Jackson insists) kiss for Jackson to invite himself over to Mark’s house. The younger man had gone oddly silent when Mark brought it up in the car, mumbling something about didn’t know when you were ready into the window and Mark had felt oddly touched.

Now, though, Jackson ignores him.

“Weeks, if you’d just told me it was because of this we could’ve avoided all that-…”

“This isn’t exactly something you can just tell,” Mark gripes, thoughtlessly plucking a bottle from the wine rack as he walks into the dry kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me, then, since you’ve apparently been sitting on this for ages?”

Jackson swells, opens his mouth, then deflates grumpily, flopping back down on Mark’s couch and somehow messing up all the cushions at once. “That is a point.”

It’s a miracle, how Mark doesn’t even bat an eyelash at that- he has a feeling progressively more of his apartment’s going to mess itself up in a circular radius starting from the couch, from now on.

“Hey.”

Mark turns around, narrowing his eyes, hands pouring two glasses of Scotch on their own accord. He’s rather mastered the art of multitasking like this, especially when he’s an adult upon with the Responsibility of Jackson.

Jackson looks both thoughtful and hesitantly hopeful at the same time, and Mark runs a list of all the worst things Jackson might ask him for.

“Nothing involving public indecency. Or Bambam and Yugyeom. Or Jinyoung, unless being smote by Jaebum is high on your list of priorities.”

Jackson makes a face. “You think so poorly of me.”

“I wonder why,” Mark rolls his eyes, picking up the glasses and heading to his couch, where Jackson’s draped. “Surely it can’t be that track record or prior experience.”

“Really,” Jackson insists earnestly. “This one’s good, I promise.”

“We have very different definitions of the word,” Mark hands a glass over, but nods, indicating he can continue anyway.

“You know,” Jackson takes a sip from his glass, obviously distracted. “About those, uh, tests Jaebum and Jinyoung were doing. I was wondering, you know, if you’d wanna-…”

“No,” Mark says firmly, plucking the glass from Jackson’s hand and setting both cups on the coffee table. “I am not stepping foot into another dream unless it involves work for a long time,” and Jackson looks comically disappointed, until Mark tugs his face towards him, leaning forward to kiss him until the frown melts from his face. “Besides,” he murmurs against the side of Jackson’s mouth, flushing a little at the thought of what he’s about to say. “Reality’s a lot better, if you ask me.”

Jackson’s got a cross between a smirk and a beam on his face when he pulls away, and Mark feels both annoyed and inexplicably happy.

“If you say so,” Jackson grins, pulling him in for another kiss, hands curling around his hips. “I know a lot of things we can do right now that are better.”

Oh, Mark thinks, then, because he’s learning new things every day about Jackson and one of them is that Jackson’s fingers are as good as his lips at making him feel things.

“Okay,” he gasps when Jackson runs his hands in teasing trails down his back, while he delves into the pockets of Jackson’s blazer as he helps him shrug it off, fingers bumping against the circular pendant he’s come to know as well as Jackson does, and a quick check is enough to quell all doubts about the state of reality. “Okay, okay.”

Yeah, Mark thinks blissfully, then, as Jackson starts to pepper butterfly kisses down the nape of his neck, strong fingers making quick work of his shirt buttons. Who needs dreams when you’ve got everything you’ve ever wanted in reality, anyway?

______________________________

a/n: ok cries that ends another one (hopefully) 

yes there is no yj baby yet cries because i actually kinda sorta wanna make a yugbam spin off on this (who did you think was writing this ofc there was gonna be a yugbam spin off) and youngjae is instrumental in there sobs.

but now honestly i'm not sure when that'll be done ;A; because cries so much work awaits and has anyone seen the latest ep of dream knight

i'm starting to regret not watching the series ;A; 

so uhm I really hope you guys liked all 15k of this (it's an improvement from 34k at least) and uhm please comment? ;A; ily guys seriously T.T /huggles

Sincerely
hiphopbabylion

p.s. wHOA WAIT PAUSE OKAY OKAY initially i was so tempted to do a got7 remake of the original inception plot but i thought that would be boring and predictable bUT LIKE OKAY OKAY DON'T YALL THINK JAEBUM JINYOUNG AND YOUNGJAE WOULD BE THE PERFECT DOM MAL AND ARIADNE IM SCREAMING ok and then ofc mark would be arthur and jackson eames and yugyeom fischer and bambam this extremely young spoilt version of saito

and then yusuf would vanish into the void im sorry he'd probably be man in the moon jyp or something

someone save me :(