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.1.
Maybe Mark shouldn't be surprised to find him leaning against the banister outside his house, the wet leather of Jaebum's drenched jacket glistering in the faint beam of the light hanging next to the wooden doorframe of Mark's house. When the doorbell first rang at half past ten he'd expected Bambam or Yugyeom or maybe even Youngjae behind the door, shivering and armed with pouts in order to convince Mark to let them stay for the night. It wasn't rare for them to do that, what with the trio's university being a mere fives miles away, and had actually become a common occurrence ever since Jackson started crashing over at Jinyoung's more and more often. Mark had hurried down the stairs, the sound of the downpour against his rooftop drowning every other noise around him as he'd hastily unlocked the door.
The words had died on his lips at the sight, heart kickstarting unsteadily as Jaebum's eyes shifted at the sound but he didn't seem to dare look up.
Mark really shouldn't be surprised at all - but part of him still is. While he himself had always been the more stubborn one of the two, somehow it was always Jaebum who gave up last.
"Hey" Mark whispers after a few heartbeats, voice barely audible as he closes the door behind him and steps out into the night, barefoot and cold because it's a chilly spring night and he really shouldn't be out here in only a thin, loose fitting t-shirt. He watches Jaebum finally look up from where he is standing a few feet away, and when their eyes meet Mark sucks in a deep breath.
They are bloodshot red, as if Jaebum hasn't slept in days, which only make the slight hollow of his cheeks more prominent in the dim light. He probably hasn't, Mark thinks, watching the way Jaebum hesitates before moving closer, movements uncertain and almost somnolent. He probably hasn't slept at all.
It's not like Mark has either.
.2.
It was Mark who ended it.
Who told him the time wasn't right, that he didn't know what to do and he didn't want to hurt Jaebum in the long run, even if it meant hurting him now. The words had tasted bitter on his tongue, but Mark had still continued. Determined. Unrelenting. They both knew it was a lie. The timing was too convenient with Jaebum's pending agency contract. Jaebum had asked, voice tight, if someone had approached Mark personally and planted this blasted idea into his head.
Someone had, someone who held more in his hands that Mark ever did in his. Someone who'd purposely found Mark on his way back from work, who had taken him to the homey cafe down the street and told him exactly what he was keeping Jaebum from. Who had broken Mark down with soft words, cut him with pleasantries and promises of Jaebum's future until he was left quieter than he had ever been before, bruised and bleeding as he stared at the copy of Jaebum's contract the man had left next to his untouched cup of coffee before walking out.
Jaebum didn't know. Jinyoung and the kids didn't either.
It was Jackson who found Mark in his room, tearing papers into pieces like his heart was torn to shreds.
The wounds are too fresh, scarring slowly as the flesh tries to mend itself. Mark searches Jaebum's eyes for a brief moment before leaning back after his door, arms coming to wrap around himself to brace against the cold wind that blows droplets of rain onto his wooden porch. He can feel the cuts opening under the scrutiny of Jaebum's stare.
He thinks, idly, that if heartbreak had a color his shirt would long be soaked red.
.3.
Jaebum doesn't know, but Mark can tell he has caught on to something. That's why he is here now, looking into the older man's eyes as he takes in the walls Mark has built around his heart. There is a hint of resolve in Jaebum's movements, behind the dull ache wrapped tight around his body. Mark wonders if he can tell the barriers have been forged of glass.
He shouldn't be here. He should be on his way to Korea. Not here with Mark.
Jaebum... he didn't belong here.
"Why are you doing this?" Mark swallows at the sound of his voice, looking at Jabeum from behind the strands of auburn hair the wind blows on his eyes. It sounds hoarse from unuse, nothing like the warm honey its known for. It prickles Mark's being like the tip of a sharpened knife.
The pain in Jaebum's eyes is so palpable it leaves Mark breathless, and he tries hard, so hard to not let his own distress show as he holds Jaebum's unwavering gaze. There are goosebumps littered on his arms and it's now that Mark notices Jaebum is trembling, breath coming out in small shaky puffs of air. He is completely drenched, down to the muddied white of his Vans. He looks at the verge of defeat.
He shouldn't be here.
Mark feels the familiar tightening in his throat, tearing his eyes away as they start glistering in the dark. He lets out a shaky sigh as Jaebum moves closer, the creaking of the wood drowned out by the night.
"Why..." He sounds tired. "Why are you doing this, Mark...?"
.4.
It's Jaebum who leans down to take his lips.
It reminds Mark of their first kiss two years ago on this same porch, under the beaming light of the summer afternoon Jackson had convinced their little gang to help Mark and himself move into their new makeshift bachelor pad. Only this time there are no old boxes laying around everywhere, no Coco barking excitedly at their ankles. Jaebum is not putting a box down on a wooden chair to take Mark's face into his warm hands, breath sweet from the boba Youngjae had roped Jinyoung into buying them all on the way here.
This time Jaebum isn't mumbling his confession clumsily to Mark, telling him to remember where his heart belongs even if Mark is moving away from their college apartment. This time there isn't a tentative smile playing at his lips, or the hoots and shouts of 'eeeeew' from Yugyeom and Bambam resonating in the background as Mark returns his kiss languidly, capturing time between their joined hands.
Now Jaebum's hands are cold against Mark's nape, mouth mint cool against the heat of Mark's. It's like he is made of pure ice, jagged edges made to cut. The only warmth he seems to emit are the hot tears that escape silently past his closed eyelids, smearing against Mark's pale cheeks as he deepens the kiss and Mark feels the familiar weight of his body pressing him back against the wooden door.
Mark tells himself he should move away, but his breath hitches at the taste of Jaebum's tongue. The glass cracks.
Instead he pulls Jaebum close, hands fisting around wet leather, mouth warming Jaebum's frozen lips even as his heart teeters at the edge of an abyss Mark knows will swallow him whole.
.5.
The thunder rumbles loud enough to shake the windows, but Mark can't hear anything past the beat of his own heart and the feel of Jaebum's hands on his body, cool and desperate and loving and he can't breathe, can only take gasps of air into his lungs before he suffocates. The couch sinks under their weight, the backrest obscuring the only light that trickles in from the lamp on the other side of the room. All he can feel is Jaebum. All he can taste is Jaebum.
Jaebum and the strength of his body pressing Mark down. Jaebum with his lips on Mark's abs. Jaebum with his mouth around him. Jaebum, Jaebum, Jaebum.
It's only after Mark gets a brief release, sweat misting on his neck, that he realizes that are words being muttered against his skin. He catches his breath before pulling Jaebum back to his mouth, hand reaching down between them to ease him in and sate the ache of being close but not close enough.
"Tell me to stay," Jaebum whispers against Mark's lips, movements slow as he cradles the back of Mark's head and looks deep into the elder's heated eyes. A pain moaned escapes Mark's lip between the burning pleasure of their bodies and the desperation behind Jaebum's brown irises. Mark leans his forehead against Jaebum's, feeling his heart shatter as he keeps his words locked even as Jaebum pleads agains his lips again. "I won't go—just... just tell me to stay."
Mark feels a raindrop fall on his neck and wonders when it started raining inside.
.6.
"Please."
Mark doesn't.
.7.
It's Jackson who finds him the next day, curled into himself on one corner of the couch, blanket wrapped loosely around Mark's shoulders as he stares out the window of their living room. The sunlight is trickling in past the grey curtains and Mark can still make out the sweet musk of Jaebum's scent coming from the cushion under his head, past the salt of his own tears and the bitter taste of regret.
The glass shards lay around him like a cascade of ice, heart bleeding raw.
"Mark?"
He turns to look at Jackson at the sound of his name, taking in the worry etched on his best friend's face. Mark shakes his head, letting out a shaky breath because he can tell Jackson knows.
And how can Jackson not when he spoke to Jinyoung on the phone a mere half hour ago, gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles had turned a stark white.
"Jaebum hyung just caught the first flight out."
Jackson could still hear the pain in Jinyoung's voice, but it pales in comparison to the trembling of Mark's shoulders now, as Jackson sits down next to him and pulls him into his arms.
"Jackson, I don't think he's coming back... not this time."