Mark feels Jackson's curves in his lap, body smooth as glass; glistening, tan, and expectant in his arms. He the younger gently and the hum he produces is like a melody to his ears. Jackson increases in volume as Mark slides his fingers up and down, pressing down harder on his sensitive spots. It is beautiful, the sounds Jackson produces, and Mark instantly feels a possessive streak surge through him. Mine. All mine.

As the draws inevitably nearer, Mark begins to work his fingers in a faster rhythm than before.

Suddenly, his G-string snaps and what was once the meoldious singing of angels warps into a discordant mixture of shrieks and ear-splitting screeches.

The bedroom door flies open to reveal Jackson standing at the doorway, flanked on both sides by s.

"Mark hyung," Jae Bum speaks up from Jackson's right. "It's... uh, getting late. Perhaps you shouldn't practise at this hour?"

Jackson instead just glares the Grover Jackson electric guitar resting in Mark's lap with disdain. "Basically, you're a player and you should really give it up." The statement earns him a whack on the back of his head by Jin Young. Jackson widens his eyes at the younger. "Whaaaaaaaaat! It's true! I'm his roommate; you guys have no idea what I go through on a daily basis."