Chapter Text
“So, like, we’re never ever gonna talk about it?”
Mark sighs, and his sentiment about boys being stupid, and so atrociously insensitive, and stupid rings intensively in his head. He really, really doesn’t want to face this ever. It’s bad enough that Jaemin is being so annoyingly persistent, with his hand tugging on Mark’s sleeves, insistent and hurried, like if they don’t talk about it, Jaemin would die and perish right in front of Mark’s eyes. Knowing Jaemin though, he would probably do that. Something like lying on the curb of this street just to get Mark to talk. Mark shouldn’t say it. It would only give Jaemin more ideas to do this.
Mark glances at Jaemin, and Mark sees eyes. Jaemin’s eyes are kind of big when he wants them to be big. It’s big when Jaemin wants something from Mark, and someone told Mark that Jaemin’s eyes are always big and twinkly whenever it’s on Mark. Someone told Mark that back then when Mark had let himself hoped for something. So Mark had let something as trivial and insignificant as eyes to convince himself that Jaemin viewed him as something. But that was so forever ago, and this is now. Jaemin does his eyes when he wants something from Mark, and he does.
Wants Mark to spill, apparently.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Jaemin,” Mark sighs out, and he tugs his sleeves away from Jaemin’s hold, continuing to walk, not bothering to look back because this is too much of a routine, and Mark knows Jaemin would follow him anyways, so there’s no use looking back. Mark does look back, though, because old habits kind of die hard. “It was the past.”
Jaemin catches up with Mark, and he’s now tugging at Mark’s backpack, which makes Mark stumble back a little, and Mark hisses, shooting a glare at Jaemin. Jaemin shoots him his boyish grin, playful, like he knows that even though Mark is being so hostile, it doesn’t matter, because Mark wouldn’t ever get angry at Jaemin.
Jaemin is kind of right.
“Right,” Jaemin agrees easily, and Mark looks at him suspiciously. Jaemin is stubborn. So stubborn it’s almost admirable, so it’s suspicious he’s agreeing with Mark so easily without putting up an argument. “It’s the past, which is why it’s easier to talk about, right?” Not really, Mark thinks. Not when it still haunts Mark every time Jaemin gets too close, and the night gets a little too lonely. Jaemin beams at Mark, mischievous and bright under the darkness of the night. “Come on, Mark. It was just a silly crush, right?”
Ah, there it is.
Jaemin’s a fucking asshole at a time like this.
When one of Mark’s secrets get revealed, it’s always the involvement of his group of friends. Because no matter how much Mark adores and loves his group of friends, they’re all fucking annoying, and can’t keep their mouth shut even if their life depends on them, so yeah. Mark is kind of surprised it took two years for the secret that Mark “used” to like Jaemin to get spilled, because usually it takes two weeks tops for a secret of one of them to be let out. But Mark guesses this is kind of different. Mark knew his group of friends wouldn’t tell Jaemin when his crush on Jaemin was loud and obvious because Mark had been so insistent to not tell Jaemin, and his friends respected that.
Well, as far as respect goes.
But it’s been two years. Two years, and his friends thought that Mark is over Jaemin, so they brought it up. It’s easy to think that way, Mark supposes. Mark doesn’t gush over the little things Jaemin does anymore, and Mark and Jaemin have grown so close-knitted in the most platonic way, and even though Jaemin is always clinging on Mark, Jaemin has always been insistent that they’re bros. Of course it’s easy to assume that Mark is over Jaemin.
It was just a few hours ago. They were all at this cafe. Mark came with Jaemin, because they just finished a class they share together, so they decided to go to this cafe they’re meeting their friends at together. Mark has a weird group of friends. Mark and Donghyuck met through one of this extracurricular club Mark doesn’t even remember the name of that first years students were threatened to have forty hours completed, but it was all a lie, and Mark has never gone to that club again ever since the first time, and neither did Donghyuck. Mark and Donghyuck had hit it off from that one time they attended together, and Donghyuck was apparently friends with Jeno. Jeno and Jaemin also met through an extracurricular dance club that they still attend, and Jeno was friends with Renjun since forever ago, and somehow, somehow, they just became this comfortable group of five.
Mark knew Donghyuck didn’t mean to actually spill that Mark had a fat crush on Jaemin. It just happened. But it didn’t exactly stop Mark from wanting to lunge at Donghyuck for him to just keep his fucking mouth shut. It was the atmosphere, perhaps. The nostalgia. Their topic had somehow shifted from how fucking hard third year is, to how first year was an absolute hell of fitting in. It was nostalgia. Mark was laughing, leaning over Jaemin, and slapping Jaemin’s thighs repeatedly because Renjun was reciting the story of the time Jeno fell into his professor’s dick yet again, and it never gets fucking old, so everyone was laughing and giggling, and it was a nice time.
At least until Donghyuck decided to open his mouth.
“Remember when--” Donghyuck wheezed, slapping the table, and hiccuping, and pointing at Mark, trying hard to contain his laughter, but failing repeatedly because Donghyuck was never good at containing his happiness. “When Mark had a fatass crush on Jaemin?”
Mark felt like in a movie. Mark doesn’t know exactly what movie he’s referring to, but there must be a movie out there somewhere where the main character feels all the happiness and giddiness built up inside him crumble little by little, and the hurt in the character’s tummy from laughing so hard turns into nervousness, spreading through his veins little by little, and eventually erupts. There must be, right? Because that was how Mark exactly felt. Like his whole world fell apart, and suddenly the comfortable and nostalgic atmosphere in the room turned into, well, mock-Mark-mood.
“Whaaaaa--” Jaemin sputtered, and Mark immediately felt embarrassed. It was like his insides were turning into jelly, and Mark wanted more than anything to just go, and, well, go. Anywhere. Anywhere that didn’t involve Jaemin and his friends running their mouth off, which was ironic, because Mark did end up going back home with Jaemin. Jaemin turned to Mark, eyes twinkling in excitement. “That happened?!”
“That was two years ago, Jaemin,” Mark defended weakly, and he pushed Jaemin’s shoulder roughly, and Jaemin barely budged, his eyes set on Mark intensively. Mark felt weak. Mark glared at Donghyuck.
“One year and a half if we’re being accurate,” Jeno interjected, and Mark rolled his eyes.
“We’re not--” being accurate, talking about this, ever. Mark huffed, annoyance seeping through his veins. Mark was kind of pissed. “Shut the fuck up, Hyuck.”
Donghyuck huffed, and the topic shifted.
That was that, and this is now.
Jaemin is still tugging insistently on Mark’s backpack, and Mark has no choice but to take Jaemin’s wrist just so that he would stop. Jaemin stops, but his eyes are still waiting. If Mark looks closely he would see a glint of hope, but Mark is kind of over that. So over giving himself hopes for something so atrociously mundane.
“Why do you not want to talk about it, then?” Jaemin asks. He’s skipping on the sidewalk, looking so ridiculously carefree that it feels like they’re not talking about the fact that Mark used to have a crush on Jaemin.
Mark huffs, stealing a look at Jaemin, and looking away immediately when Jaemin looks back, a gentle slash teasing smile on his face. Mark looks away. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You’re embarrassed about the crush you had on me?” Jaemin queries, and Mark is really starting to think that Jaemin is fucking with him. Can’t he see how embarrassed Mark is?
“Yeah.” Mark agrees easily, and Mark punches his shoulders lightly. “Stop talking about this.”
“You’re embarrassed?” Jaemin asks, grinning. Mark knows it’s the teasing kind of question. Question that is not supposed to be answered. But Mark still nods. Because he’s embarrassed, and wishes Jaemin would just stop. Jaemin ignores him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What?” Mark sputters, because it’s a ridiculous question. Why didn’t Mark tell Jaemin? Oh, maybe there’s that possibility of their friendship going down the drain. Or maybe it’s because Jaemin and Mark grew kind of close it would be hard to just jump into that relationship realm when Jaemin had strictly implied that their relationship is and was platonic, and not more than that. Or maybe it’s the fact that Mark and Jaemin had grown so kind of ridiculously close that Jaemin talks to Mark about his crushes, and none of them were Mark. “Why would I? You had your own love interests back then, Jaemin.”
“Love interests,” Jaemin mutters under his breath, and laughing right after. Jaemin drapes his arm over Mark’s shoulder, and Jaemin’s close as he looks at Mark with this fondness that people say Jaemin only has when he looks at Mark: Jaemin looks at Mark, his eyes shiny, as if drunk, even though he didn’t drink a drop of alcohol. “Cute.” Mark hates when Jaemin gets like this. Jaemin grins. “Crush, Mark, crush.”
“Hah,” Mark says, and Mark removes the arm draped over his shoulder. “Crush, then. Whatever.” Mark sighs. “Look, I’m sorry Donghyuck mentioned it, okay? I’m over the crush. I really am.” Mark smiles hopefully at Jaemin. “Let’s stop talking about this, okay? I promise I’m over it.”
Mark can see Jaemin’s face harden. But Jaemin forces a smile out. “Alright, Mark.”
-
Mark starts the next day in his apartment like he usually does. He has a class at 10, so Mark wakes up at 9:45, rushes to shower for 5 minutes, and quickly finds something decent to wear in his pile of laundry that Mark has yet to fold. Mark has bad weeks sometimes. Where his productivity is just thrown out the window, and doing something as trivial and minor as doing laundry, folding laundry, or even making something to eat just feels likes a burden, so Mark does the wisest thing: doesn’t do any of those things. It’s only a bad week, Mark repeats every time this happens.
Mark enters his lecture 5 minutes late, but the professor isn’t there yet because no matter how late Mark is, the professor is always more late than Mark, which is basically the only reason why Mark even keeps waking up late; he knows he’s not going to face any consequences by being late. It’s the class with Jaemin, so Mark slides into the seat next to Jaemin, breathing heavily, a whine threatening to escape his throat, but Mark resists, chanting that it’s his own fault for not waking up early, so of course he’s feeling like shit.
“Morning,” Mark mutters to Jaemin as a greeting, rummaging through his backpack, ignoring Jaemin’s eyes on him, sort of another factor Mark has to get used to. Jaemin’s gazes are kind of intense sometimes, and Mark, bad at eye-contact, always feels the need to look away every time Jaemin looks at him because it just feels too intimate. Too much hopes that Mark could’ve extracted the more he looks, so like everything else, Mark avoids.
“Good morning, Mark,” Jaemin replies sunnily, and Mark looks up to Jaemin, squinting. Jaemin only blinks at him, grinning happily. So Mark goes back to rummaging his bag, finally taking out his Macbook, and a pencil. Mark can feel Jaemin having something to say, so Mark sighs as he puts his bag down on the floor, finally looking back at Jaemin. Mark sighs. “What?”
“Why did you assume I have something to say?” Jaemin laughs out, and Mark gives him a look, twirling the pencil between his fingers, stealing a look at Jaemin to find him still looking at Mark. Mark hates this. Mark chooses to open his laptop, and the screen comes to live as Mark only flipped it shut last night after Mark was done with work.
Mark fiddles with the pencil still, gnawing on his bottom lip, and he types his password into the laptop. Mark can feel Jaemin waiting for his reply, but Mark suddenly feels weird. What if his reply is too belated Jaemin forgot what they were even talking about? God, Mark hates his thoughts. How they always seem to swivel into some sort of theory that is overanalysed and over thought. “Well, then do you have anything to say?”
It’s been 10 minutes since when the lecture is supposed to start. Mark suspects the professor would come thirty minutes late at most, if not more. So maybe 20 more minutes of Jaemin looking at him like this, and Mark pretending it doesn’t have any effect on him. Jaemin leans in closer to Mark, getting into his personal space like he always does, and Mark lets him, wrinkling his nose, a bad habit he has whenever Jaemin does something remotely intimate and close to Mark. it has become some sort of defence mechanism throughout the years. “Do you want to go for lunch after the lecture?”
Mark blinks at Jaemin, taken aback. Mark looks back at the person behind him, which is Yerim, and Yerim is currently talking to the person next to her, so she doesn’t notice Mark looking. Mark looks back at Jaemin, blinking. Forcing himself to make eye contact because it would just be obvious if Mark doesn’t look. “With Yerim?”
Jaemin looks confused, and he scratches his nape, his brows furrowing slightly, and a small pout on his lips as he looks at Mark. How long has he been looking? “Uh, if you want to bring her we could, I guess?”
Now Mark is confused. This is weird. Weird because Jaemin has never really offered to get lunch together before. If they do get lunch together, it would usually be with the other guys, or with their classmates. It’s never just the two of them. Even Mark’s own eyebrows are furrowed at this point. “What?” Mark sputters, confused, and Jaemin bites on his bottom lip, looking weird and awkward. “Do you want to bring her?”
Jaemin frowns, and he’s impatiently tapping his fingers on the pads of their table. “Why would I? I only asked you, didn’t I?” Jaemin sighs. “Do you wanna bring her?”
Okay, so Jaemin doesn’t want to bring her.
Mark shrugs, feeling odd, and he finally breaks their eye contact. Mark kind of hates how there’s still a weird feeling in his chest. “Dunno,” Mark says stupidly, shrugging awkwardly. Jaemin is still looking. “We’ve never really eaten together--uh, alone, before.” Nowt that Mark said it to the world, it sounds even stupider.
Mark finally looks back at Jaemin, and Mark sees the lines around his forehead gone, and there’s this fond look on his face as he laughs at Mark’s words. “Well, let this be the first, then.”
Mark shrugs, agreeing, and Jaemin holds out a fist bump. Mark looks at it weirdly, and Jaemin laughs, taking Mark’s wrist, and grips Mark’s fingers, so that it would ball into a fist. With his other hand holding Mark’s wrist, he collides their fists together, making Mark laugh incredulously. Mark only laughs.
The professor enters, and Jaemin gives him one last smile, something in his eyes like they’ve just shared something between them that only the two of them know of, not anyone in this room, and not anyone else. Mark looks straight ahead, as the professor connects his laptop to the projector. Mark can kind of feel Jaemin’s eyes.
Mark hates when Jaemin gets like this.
Mark also hates when he gets like this. Where he analyses each one of Jaemin’s behaviours and somehow deludes it into something.
Mark hates it.
-
It’s not like it’s the first time they’ve ever been together alone.
Exhibit one could be seen yesterday, where Mark and Jaemin came together to the gathering with their friends, and when they went back home together too. There are also many instances where Mark and Jaemin walked outside of lecture, and just--say goodbye. But that’s really how far being alone together is for both of them. It’s not like he’s always hanging out together with the others either. His friendship with his group of friends sometimes feel like Donghyuck is his friend, while Renjun and Jeno are Jaemin’s. They’re a group for sure, but not quite. It’s a weird dynamic.
So Mark guesses, he does have the rights to be nervous right now. It’s foreign and new, and Mark doesn’t condemn himself for getting anxious over new situations, as there are a lot of unexpected things that could happen, and at times like these Mark’s rationality doesn’t even work. This is kind of like this, Mark supposes. Mark doesn’t know what to expect. At least yesterday, Mark had time to prepare himself mentally to be alone with Jaemin as it was a plan made days prior, and Mark had managed to not let himself be nervous.
This is new. This is new, and by the time the three hours lecture is over, Mark is tired as fuck, both from typing, listening, and thinking. Mark is just packing up when Jaemin speaks up.
“You okay with me driving? I brought my car today, and there’s this new place I wanna try out,” Jaemin says, and Mark, kind of helpless, only nods.
Mark has never been in Jaemin’s car before. If Mark imagines what Jaemin’s car would be like, Mark guesses it would be a car that is mad clean. The pristine cars that have their shits organised, and there’s always a pack of gum, a change of clothes, and tissues
Mark is right, of course. Mark recognises Jaemin’s car as the new Hyundai Hybrid Sonata. The insides of Jaemin’s car is exactly like how Mark envisioned it to be. Clean, but has everything you would need inside. Kind of like Jaemin. Jaemin has always been that type of person that has everything you would need. Tissue? Jaemin has those. Hand sanitiser? Always.
Mark whistles as he enters the passenger seat. Jaemin laughs. “What?”
“Your car is clean,” Mark remarks, and Jaemin laughs again, stealing a look at Mark.
“Yeah, well, gotta clean it yesterday since I’m asking you out, right?” Jaemin bites back.
Mark feels his heartbeat quicken. God, Mark fucking hates this. The way Jaemin’s words that probably mean nothing but platonic is affecting him in a way that he doesn’t want to. Fuck Jaemin. Fuck him and his words. What does that even mean? Did Jaemin really clean his car because he knew Mark wouldn’t refuse his offer for lunch? Or he’s really just shitting Mark at this point? Is he teasing Mark? What for?
“Ha ha,” Mark says dryly, and Mark sees from the corner of his eyes Jaemin giving him a soft look. Fond, what some people would say, but Mark has long ago refused to give himself hopes. But it gets hard when Jaemin gets like this.
Jaemin backs away from the parking spot, looking back, and Mark steals a glance. Jaemin locks eyes with Mark for a moment, shrugging. “It’s true, though.”
Fuck Jaemin.
Small talks with Jaemin are easy. They have known each other for around a year and a half (Jeno’s voice echoes in his head at this). It’s easy to have small talks, Mark guesses. Jaemin asks what Mark did over the summer, and Mark talks here and there about going back to Canada with his family, and Jaemin listens with this everthere smile on his face. Fond, fond, fond, his mind conjures. But just as quickly Mark labels the smile as fond, Mark makes it disappear by reminding himself how platonic they’ve been for the past year and a half.
It’s okay, it’s okay.
It’s okay to be platonic.
Car rides are comfortable, Mark now realises. Jaemin had let Mark use the AUX, and Jaemin laughs when Mark plays Martini Blue, muttering under his breath that it’s so Mark, Mark doesn’t even know what it means. Despite that, they sang the chorus, the bass of the music floating and bouncing through the tiny space as they tried to follow the rap lines. It’s fun, and just for a moment, Mark allows himself to feel. To feel the rush in his veins, to feel how fond he is himself of Jaemin.
And the moment stops.
They arrive at the place Jaemin wants to try out in about 20 minutes. It’s a nice and quaint place. Definitely not Korean, if Mark was to guess. Probably western kind of place. The place isn’t crowded either, which Mark appreciates because Mark has this weird mindset of being insecure when there are a lot of people.
Mark says it to Jaemin when they sit down. “This is a nice place. Not a lot of people.”
Jaemin quirks an eyebrow, looking at Mark. “You don’t like places with a lot of people?”
Mark stiffens, shrugging awkwardly. “Nah, I get weird.”
Jaemin nods appreciatively. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Keep in mind for what? Mark’s mind questions. He hates his brain. The waitress gives them their menu, smiling at Jaemin sweetly, and Mark ignores the weird feeling in his chest as Jaemin returns the smile with an equally charming smile. The price of the food is kind of somewhat expensive. But Mark did have enough cash, so it’s alright. They both ordered, and small talks are made here and there as they waited, and eventually ate.
It’s pleasant.
Pleasant and quiet as they talk about how hard their coursework is, as they talk about Donghyuck who’s considering an exchange program, the sports festival next week, Renjun’s hometown, and somehow, somehow to the most trivial thing such as birthdays and fears. It’s weird how easy it is to talk to Jaemin. Without preparing himself mentally, but he still feels relatively at ease. It’s nice. When his brain chooses to only focus in the moment, and not think about how far from platonic Jaemin’s actions are.
They are about to pay. Mark ready to split the bills because that’s what friends do. But Jaemin slides his card to the cashier before Mark even has a say in it.
“The hell?” Mark mutters under his breath, elbowing Jaemin softly.
Jaemin smirks at Mark. “What?” The cashier returns Jaemin’s card, and Mark gives a small uncomfortable smile at the cashier as thanks, and they exit the place.
“Why did you pay?” Mark asks, feeling uncomfortable. “We should’ve split the bills.”
Jaemin shrugs, and they stop in front of Jaemin’s car. Not getting inside, because they’re fucking odd. They talk outside. “Why not? I asked you out, didn’t I?”
Why does he keep fucking saying that? Mark’s mind is once again a whirlwind of thoughts, analysing and thinking, constantly, repetitively. Jaemin can’t do this to him. Jaemin knows Mark used to like him. Yes, Mark denied that he still has feelings for Jaemin, but still.
He can’t do this to Mark. Mark still has feelings, and all the facade he has built throughout the years crumble little by little the more Jaemin starts acting like this. Mark got used to being with Jaemin. But eating together, and Jaemin paying? This is a whole new territory Mark has to get used to. A new territory that would probably take another year and a half to get used to.
Fuck.
“Why do you keep saying that?” Mark fakes laughs, punching Jaemin’s shoulder awkwardly. “I’ll pay you, okay? Just give me your bank account number.”
Jaemin frowns at Mark, and Mark feels strangely scared of upsetting Jaemin. “You can’t do that.” Mark frowns at that. Jaemin takes Mark’s wrist, tugging on it insistently. “It’s okay, Mark. That was my treat, okay? I asked you out, didn’t I?”
“Why do you put it that way?” Mark says, frustration manages to seep through his words. “Sorry. It’s just. You’re acting weird.” Weirder.
Jaemin looks embarrassed now. At getting called out, somehow. Jaemin shrugs. “I wanna give this a try.”
Mark’s heart is beating so loudly. It’s thrumming, and beating insistently at his ears, so suffocating and annoying. “What?”
“Do you still like me, Mark?”
Fuck Jaemin. Truly fuck him.
“You can’t do this to me, Jaemin,” Mark mumbles under his breath, and Mark looks at Jaemin fiercely. “You can’t just treat me nicely because you pity how I used to like you. Stop that. It’s in the past.”
Jaemin’s face hardens. “But.” Jaemin’s face softens, probably seeing how distressed Mark looks. It’s fucking infuriating. How Jaemin looks so fond. How he seems to be willing to do anything Mark asks him of. How maybe these things aren’t just in his head. “Sorry. You’re right.”
They’re silent for a moment, and Mark kicks at Jaemin’s shoes. “We’re okay, right?”
“Yeah, we are,” Jaemin replies, smiling. He finally lets go of Mark’s wrist. Jaemin opens Mark car door. Because he’s an asshole. Jaemin leans his body against his car, looking ridiculously charming, and Mark enters the car. Jaemin studies Mark for a second, and Mark feels increasingly weird and uncomfortable. Uncomfortable by the fluttering of his heart. “Can I still try, though?”
Jaemin doesn’t wait for the reply. Going over to the other side to get to the driver seat. Mark mulls over the question. A question that Mark doesn’t even have the answer to. Does Jaemin even want an answer?
Fuck.
Jaemin leans over, and Mark’s eyes widen. Fuck, fuck, fuck. They make eye contact, and Jaemin’s eyes are soft, fond and sincere. “Seatbelt, Mark,” Jaemin whispers, and he goes back to his seat, putting on his seatbelt.
The rest of the car ride? Mark gets the AUX, and they pretend there isn’t something in the air.