Archive of Our Own

Pretty pink petals of the cherry blossom danced as they caught in the wind, following an author as he maneuvered through the streets. Mark's fingers twitched as he strode toward the cafe door, anxious and jittery about what would come of this meeting. It had been a couple of weeks since the phone call from his publisher, since the film studio had proposed making his novel into a film. It was a big deal, as his publisher had said, it was a privilege. From the writers end, until he met the actors who would play the characters, he wouldn't be settled. The actor set to play the lead role had contacted him within days, amongst the wave of emails and calls Mark got bombarded with as the idea began to ignite. It spread like a forest fire, un-tamable and rapid. He insisted they meet, claiming he had questions for the author on how exactly to portray his beloved creation. The young man was more then a little terrified, used to the only social interactions he engaged in being with his dog or the occasional pester from his publisher for an update on his pending next novel. He was used to fading into the sea of faces and bodies that floated through this city. And now, he had to have a face to face conversation and discussion with a most likely extroverted actor. The blonde's heart beat picked up once more.

They had arranged to meet in a cafe frequented by many city dwellers, another warm establishment overflowing with the aroma of coffee beans, steamers frothing milk and orders being called out. The writer busied himself with ordering a hot chocolate with cream and marshmallows, hickory orbs flitting over the customers already sat reading newspapers and sipping on their beverages. None seemed to be waiting on anyone, so he thanked the barrister with a nod and shuffled further in to claim a seat.

The author drummed his fingers against the mug as he spooned cream into his mouth, gaze bouncing off of the front door to the coffee station, foot tapping along subconsciously. Most people had told Mark to take the offer, his dad bringing up the financial benefits, his mum beaming with pride. His neighbour Yugyeom had given his praise, pointing out how cool it would be to see his own story come to visual life, with a soundtrack and cinematography. Mark had only thought about his own soundtrack that fit along side his book, his own scenes that played out in images in his head. The studio had promised he could be a part of it, could be there for all the rehearsals, would have a say in the music accompaniment and any changes. However, the blonde hadn't found it in him to let go just yet, clinging tightly onto his creation. What people didn't know, and failed to understand, was that this was more then a story to Mark. It was a recreation of his life, it was inbuilt in his memories, projected onto. It was his own story of how two childhood friends met in school, grew up together and shared a groundbreaking kiss in high school on one of their sleepovers. It was his experience that was mirrored through the heartbreak when his best friend couldn't bare the thought of coming out, refused and kept their love a secret. It had crushed him and the pain had panged deep inside him for years, twisted like a knife in his gut when his best friend moved away. It was the end of their bond, the end of their own little world where they could be together forever. It was more then a fictional story to Mark. No one seemed to understand that.

Another customer swung into the room, the bell above the door ringing to capture Mark's attention, staring wide-eyed at the person who had entered. A dark haired male, no more then early twenties had paused in the threshold, hand resting on the wood of the door as their eyes scanned the room. The blonde continued to stare until their eyes met, cheeks instantaneously flushing with heat under the acknowledgment. The other man was beautiful, round featured and honey eyed, brunette locks fluffed and windswept. Mark's throat ran dry. Seeing what he deemed acceptable it seemed, the young man made a beeline for the author, stopping just short of the table with a polite smile and a held out had. The blonde could only gawk, frozen with his mug half way to his lips, snapping out of it only when the other man quirked an eyebrow, clearing his throat to take the other hand in his. They were warm and smooth, sturdy and sure unlike Mark's thin fingered quiver.

"You must be the infamous Mark Tuan." his voice rumbled, another kind smile gracing his lips. "Park Jinyoung, pleased to meet you. I'm just going to grab a coffee before we start this, can I get you anything?" The writer only shook his head in stunned silence, skin rouging once more when the actor tittered in response. Clasping his hands in his lap, the blonde worried his fingers together as he waited for the actor, teeth chewing on his lip over and over again. He was going to have to pick up some more lip balm soon. The other man returned as Mark readjusted his overcoat for the third time in the last minute, perching opposite him with a well-natured huff, greeting him once more with yet another smile. Mark wondered if his cheeks ever ached from all the grinning.

"I have to say, I had read your book before they came to me with the idea to make it into a film. You're a very talented writer." the actor praised, Mark nodding his head in thanks.

"Er-thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it." was all he replied, content to take the guys lead in the conversation. The other male sat clad in all black, a roll neck pulled on. Did all actor's wear roll necks? Was it in the job description?

"No, thank you for writing it. It was beautiful, heart wrenching and tragic, but still gorgeous." He commented, blowing on the inky liquid before he took a sip. "I was a little apprehensive when they told me they were planning to make it a film. I was worried one wouldn't be able to generate such a beloved story into a motion picture successfully, to still keep the raw essence that books have. But," he paused in between his rattling on to shrug a shoulder, "I really do think they'll do it justice. I for one can say I relate to the main role." the actor admitted, halting momentarily as his eyes misted over, staring down at the wood of the table top, only to shake himself out of it with a sheepish pinch of his lips. Mark bulked at the information.

"R-really? You can relate? How so?" he prompted, attention snagged on just how his own experiences could link to the other. The young man nodded in confirmation, pursing his lips in thought before he answered.

"I-um... a lot of the events resonated with me. If anything they seemed all too familiar." the man of cedar tresses punctuated with a bitter chuckle, taking another gulp of his coffee. The blonde could only stare, baffled into silence that this man in front of him could actually understand what Mark used to feel, what he had poured into the words that inked the page. Without forethought, and without ceremony, the writer blabbed out a question.

"What was his name?" Hung in the air between them, Jinyoung jolting as if pricked with a needle by the words. Round saucer-like eyes leapt up to lock with Mark's, hurt resonating within them, though vanishing with a blink of his lids. Avoiding eye contact, the darker haired male cleared his throat, hands rubbing together continuously, stopped only when trapped in between his tense thighs. Mark waited patiently, not entirely sure whether to dismiss the question to put them both at ease, or to just wait it out. The blonde couldn't deny that he was more then intrigued to find out more.

"Um- Jaebeom... his name was Lim Jaebeom." Jinyoung confessed, barely above a whisper. Mark frowned at the name, accepting this with a minute of silence.

"Traditional Korean, I'm guessing?" Mark queried, sourly satisfied by the other man's sharp snort and lift of brow in reply. Recalling what Yugyeom had told him about Korea, it made sense why Jinyoung would have had a problem with his childhood friend.

"You could say that again. Homosexuals weren't exactly celebrated in Korea at that time. We were both born into very traditional families, though mine were a hell of a lot more lenient," Jinyoung informed him, finger tips circling the edge of the mug. "I'm going to hazard a guess that the novel isn't exactly fictional?" he fired back at the author, the blonde jerking his head once in agreement.

"Er-yeah. His name was Jackson," Mark commented, the name still tasting acidic on his tongue. "Being gay with the group of friends we had, being the type of person that he was... he didn't seem to think it would work along side too well," he revealed, gaze refusing to settle for more then a couple seconds. "Not everything in the novel is the same. It wasn't nearly as dramatic." The writer jested at a poor attempt to defuse the tension. Jinyoung allowed himself a chuckle, humming in thought.

"No romantic declaration of love in the rain then? No palpable build up to the first kiss?" the actor questioned in amusement, a tentative smile gracing his lips. The author granted him a hesitant smile back, shaking his head.

"Not exactly. It was a lot less dignified, a whole lot more awkward and definitely less spectacular. Though, I don't seem to recall the confession of love in awful weather?" Mark pointed out good-naturedly. The brunette shrugged, elbows resting on the table top as he leaned slightly forward.

"There wasn't, but every Hollywood extravaganza has to have an agonizing rain scene," he teased, eyes wrinkling adorably when he grinned. Mark's heart palpitated. "But that's what I liked about your book. It wasn't looked at through a rose lens, it wasn't seamless. It was unsure and real, it was raw and so confused. It rang true," Jinyoung complimented, missing Mark's face beating red as he stared off at the wall behind.

"Well t-that's, that's very kind of you to say," the blonde acknowledged as his fingers picked at his napkin, still blushing under the praise. A weighty silence settled over them, both lost in past memories and old faces of their childhood.

"So... if you were worried that the actors wouldn't be able to portray your story well, don't be. At least one of us has experienced it," Jinyoung promised with a weak smile. "I'll give it my all. I won't let you down."

Comfort bloomed in Mark's chest, stomach once tangled in knots easing out at the confident look in the actor's eyes. If the young man had faith in himself, when he had experienced events reminiscent of the book, of Mark's, then there was no better man. But Mark wasn't so convinced yet.

"Why'd he leave? Jaebeom, I mean," he inquired. The darker haired man blew out his cheeks as he recalled, swallowing thickly.

"His family owns a company, he was set to be the new CEO." His lashes fluttered as he remembered, eyes blinking as if to combat the memories. "His mother caught us. I've never been so terrified." Mark's heart squeezed at his disclosure, all too familiar with that feeling of dread. "She promised to keep it a secret, to not tell his father. But only if we promised to never speak again." The actor's voice wavered momentarily, caught up in the dormant emotions. "Of course I promised, I couldn't bare the thought of Jaebeom's father finding out, Jaebeom losing everything," the brunette continued, shaking his head in disbelief still. "Jaebeom and I never argued, not seriously. But that day, I don't think we'd ever been so serious with one another."

Sipping on the coffee once more, Jinyoung paused for thought. "His father shipped him off as soon as he finished high school. He lives somewhere in Seoul." the actor shrugged, feigning indifference. Mark had a suspicion that wasn't always the case. He knew how long it took for him to leave his own heart to heal. "And you? What happened with Jackson?"

Inhaling heavily, the blonde pondered over just how much he should share. Jackson was still a private thought he allowed himself to indulge in every now and then, the actual person he was still shaded from the story he published. "Well, it happened pretty much the exact same as my novel, only Jackson is a lot louder in real life." he jested with a short laugh, soothed by Jinyoung's replying grin. "No one found us or anything, he just wanted to keep us a secret. But you know, kind of eats you out alive." The actor hummed in agreement, hues glinting with a spark of recognition. "I came out to my parents but Jackson said nothing. He was kind of popular in our high school, the class clown y'know?" the writer informed him, licking his lips as he took a breath. "We weren't exactly sure our friends would be cool with it either, you never know with frat boys." the author cringed with a twitch of his eye.

"So he never said anything. We were best friends, but it was only when we were alone that he held my hand, when we acted like we wanted to." Mark's shoulders lifted and dropped in a heavy shrug, nails drumming on the table top. "He moved back to China, I don't know what he does now."

The two young men sat opposite each other in companionable silence, both brooding over what they shared, snarled in the jumble of emotions that had cropped up, hearts ladened and palms sweaty. They had offered up recollections and found solace in their mirrored lives. They had unknowingly bonded.

"So... how are you feeling about your book being made into a film now?" the actor probed. The writer took a moment to appraise the man in front of him, scanning over his deep brown orbs, lined with dark lashes and accompanied by a round nose and plump lips. His watchful gaze shone with hope, jaw clenching in anticipation. The other man was undoubtedly attractive, knowingly talented and ever so open. He was a man willing to lay his emotions bare, gunning to represent the character as best he could for a story he cherished so much. Mark's heart steadied and his fingers rested, breath evening out and shoulders relaxing. It had all started to slot into place.

"Alright... alright lets do it." The author indicated, his own lips spreading into a grin from Jinyoung's contagious beam.

"Really? Oh Mark, it's going to be fantastic, I promise. You can count on me, and you can be there every step of the way!" The actor encouraged, seizing Mark's hand in the two of his. He cradled it like a precious thing, like a privilege. The blonde's skin burned. His hold was sure and supportive, un-moving and strong. It made Mark's heart flutter.

"We can do this Mark. Together, we can bring your story alive, just the way you want it to." Jinyoung vowed, a warm simper lighting up his face. "You can do this." Mark's stomach flipped under the other man's look, reiterating the smile given in reassurance.

"Yeah... yeah of course we can. We can do this."

-

Voices cheered and glasses clinked together, amber liquid sloshing over the rim. Barbecues sizzled and popped, covered in meat and veg. People were merry. It was a celebration after all. The author sat there in a daze, head swimming with scenes and music scores, flashes of flushed skin that clutched onto one another. That particular scene had left Mark's cheeks burning and stomach pooling with heat. Mark had tried to ignore it, this budding crush that flared in his chest whenever he set his eyes on a certain onyx tressed actor; alas, he couldn't stop it. Whenever Jinyoung would bid him good morning on a rather early morning shoot, a jaw-splitting yawn hidden behind a hand, eyes soft and wrinkled with eye whiskers as he smiled languidly, he could feel his heart thrumming. When he would take the extra time out of his day to sit in the music studio with Mark, offering up his ideas and opinions on a section of the soundtrack, even when he had finished shooting for the day. When he would take a trip to a local cafe, picking up a caffeine buzzed frappacino for the blonde on late shoot days, a tinkling laugh hidden behind a hand when Mark's hair just wouldn't lie flat from combing his fingers through it so many times in frustration. When Jinyoung's own fingers would play with the hairs on the nape of his neck, soothing and calming him when he got agitated. Strong and sure hands entrapping his to 'just stop cracking them, for goodness sake Mark. You're going to get arthritis!', despite the blonde pointing out that that wasn't actually true. He was always returned with a tut and gentle flick on his forehead. He couldn't stop it. And now, they were finished.

The filming had been brought to a close that afternoon, the whole cast and crew erupting in whoops of happiness, a relieved grin breaking across Mark's face. He accepted hand shakes and claps on the back, having to remind people they still had to edit the whole thing, still had to piece it all together. The producer assured all would be well, promising the writer with a kiss to his cheek, reiterating that they were in this together, she and him, would create his masterpiece. It was Jinyoung's idea to go for chicken and beer, the director shooting this down only to promise never-ending alcohol and meat for everyone. She was met with screams and chaos. Mark could only grin, gaze scanning over his new found family, resting on chestnut orbs that already bore into his, a tender smile on bee-stung lips.

Jinyoung and his co-star now sat next to each other, Jinyoung letting out a stream of giggles, shoving his shoulder as the other re-told the story of their intimate scene, when the actor of darker locks had gotten a little too enthusiastic, accidentally resulting in flinging the other off the side of the bed. The group exploded in merry laughter, Jinyoung apologising for the hundredth time, rapidly pecking kisses on Joo-Hyuk's head, clutching onto it. They cackled together, reeling off anecdotes of their infamous kiss in the rain, a scene Jinyoung had managed to coax Mark into writing. It was rather dramatic, and Hollywood worthy as Jinyoung had said. But, Mark had thought, he had the licence to be a little cheesy every now and then. It was his creation after all.

Their eyes met across the table, a smirk playing on Jinyoung's features, leaning an elbow on the table to cup his chin in his hand, cocking a teasing brow in Mark's direction. The author beamed back, raising his glass to his lips. The actor continued to lock onto his gaze, a confident wink thrown the blonde's way. Mark fought down the blush that threatened to rouge his cheeks, but to no avail. Ducking his head to hide it, he pulled out his phone for a distraction, only then registering the time. He cleared his throat, tapping the director next to him, letting her know that he had to be off, having left his dog with his neighbour who would not be too happy to have her for the night. He was met with a crow of disapproval, the whole crew catching wind and voicing their own disappointment. Mark apologised profusely, bowing continuously before promising he would see them all soon, especially before the premier. A bright boy of the lighting crew whined for the blonde to stay, clutching onto Mark's arm and refusing to let go with a pout.

"Let him go Youngjae, you cretin." the costume designer rebuked, physically having to detach the two. "Sorry Hyung, he's had a lot to drink." the man shook his head, multi-coloured pastel locks swaying.

"It's fine Bam, I'll see you soon, yeah?" the blonde timidly questioned.

"Of course Hyung! I still need to get my hands on your wardrobe." the Thai-native grinned, hugging Youngjae to him. "I'm sure this little otter will want to meet up as well, when he's more coherent maybe." he cackled, waving at Mark who backed out the restaurant. He wouldn't disturb Jinyoung, who's laughter he could still hear ringing through the room. He was met with a warm evening, the trees dancing in the gentle breeze, the sky clear and still. The trees were starting to blossom again. It was as his hand made contact with the car door handle that he felt a tug on the back his sweater. The blonde paused, pivoting on the spot to find dark irises glinting in the low lamp light, flushed cheeks and red tipped ears. Park Jinyoung's fingers were bunched with the material of his jumper. After a frozen couple of seconds, he was let go, the ravenet realising what he had done. Jinyoung cleared his throat, eye-line dropping to their shoes. One pair was polished, shiny black derbys, the other, scuffed up chunky sneakers.

"...Jinyoung?" Mark probed after a few moments, Jinyoung startled out of his fogy thoughts with a soft 'oh!'.

"Yeah sorry, um... are you leaving? You didn't say goodbye." he pointed out, a slight pout pulling on his lips. Mark felt a smile playing on his own, a sudden wash of confidence urging him to take the other's hands. Jinyoung's lips parted as their fingers interlocked, Mark not able to shift his gaze from them.

"Sorry, you were in the middle of a conversation. I didn't want to interrupt." The author was replied with a short snort of laughter, a step forward taken. Their shoes knocked together.

"As if. You can interrupt me any time." the actor muttered, breath now fanning over Mark's cheeks, smelling of beer. The blonde paused.

"How much have you drank?" he queried, leaning back to appraise the darker haired man.

"Enough to be jolly, not enough to be unaware of my surroundings or to walk straight, too much to be behind the wheel of a car." Jinyoung reeled off, a titter escaping past Mark's lips at the precise way he explained himself. Even when a little intoxicated, the actor was still eloquent. "You couldn't have drank much if you were about to drive home."

"Nah," Mark confirmed, fingers now dancing with Jinyoung's. "Only one. Got to get started on my next novel now."

"Slow down cowboy, we've not even finished the first film yet!" Jinyoung pointed out, brows raised.

"Cowboy?" the author asked, nose wrinkling in humor. The other shrugged.

"I dunno, I've had a few beers. Everyone's a cowboy right now." Jinyoung mumbled, taking another step forward when answered with Mark's peel of laughter. The laughter died in Mark's throat, registering their close proximity. They'd been this close before, sure, they'd hugged for long periods of time, bumped into each other playfully, but never with intention. Mark allowed himself to rest against his back against the car, welcoming Jinyoung's advance. They stood flush, Mark sucking in a breath, Jinyoung resting his forearms on top of the car, caging him in. The blonde's hands found his torso, resting on his lower stomach. Their lips a hairs breadth away, the night halting as they both froze. Nudging his nose gently against Mark's, Jinyoung brought up a hand to cup the other's jaw, shifting forwards that last little stretch, soft lips pillowed against the other. Mark responded in kind, pressing right back, eye lids fluttering when fingers wound their way into his hair, nails lightly scraping his scalp. Swallowing a groan, Mark pulled Jinyoung forwards with the material of his crisp, white tee, caressing their lips together. It was sweet, tender, effortless as it became open mouthed, lulling with each stroke. Jinyoung's thumb caught his chin, tilting Mark's face this way and that, guiding him in the dream like kiss, fuzzy and oblivious to anything other than Jinyoung's enticing, pink petals. The actor's strong hands caused the writer to melt under them, putty warm and palpable. A distant honking horn shocked them apart, yanked back down to earth. Both head's shot to the side, ears perked to hear. They slowly turned to look at each other, a blush painted across their cheeks, pinking their ears. They shared a shy smile, noses bumping teasingly as they did.

"Want a lift home?" the blonde whispered, smoothing out Jinyoung's tee now crinkled from Mark's grip.

"That would be much appreciated." the brunette nodded in thanks, simpering as he moved to the passenger side. Inhaling the crisp air sharply through the nose, Mark steadied himself before he followed.

The car ground to a halt outside an apartment complex, the radio killed and lights dying when the key was pulled from the ignition. They sat in silence, chancing side glances at each other, grinning sheepishly when caught. Jinyoung's thumb tapped rapidly against his thigh, sighing when a crack of Mark's knuckles sounded through the car, capturing them, soothing the skin with his own.

"You'll get arthritis dummy."

"How many times do I have to tell you? There is no scientific evidence tha-"

"Mark, listen to me." the actor cut off, Mark's mouth snapping shut, nodding for Jinyoung to continue. Steeling himself, Jinyoung let out a stream of consciousness, orbs darting around as he did. "I like you. I really like you... I have for a while I think. This whole process, the film, the music, the story, all those early mornings and late nights, I loved every single second of them. Even when it was three am, and we were all delirious with caffeine, pulling our hair out in frustration," they shared a quiet laugh, fingers tangled together. "I loved it. Not only because it's a beautiful story close to my heart, but because of you." Jinyoung admitted, an embarrassed shrug lifting his shoulders. Mark remained silent, irises wide and mind racing. "I don't know I just... I really like you. With your untameable, perpetual bedhead and your knuckle cracking." Mark beamed, shifting forwards in his seat. "I like you Mark Tuan, you genius with your beautiful words and heartbreaking stories." the actor confessed, bringing Mark's hand to his lips, gentle kisses peppered there. "Would you go on a date with me? Or something?" the ravenet snorted with a sheepish smile. The blonde could mirror the smile back.

"Or something." he repeated, chuckling as Jinyoung rolled his eyes playfully. "Yeah, okay... I'll go on a date with you, Park Jinyoung. Seeing as you just serenaded me in my own car, parked outside your house on a late spring evening." The actor scoffed, pushing Mark away and moving to leave the car in a huff. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding, get back in you drama queen." Mark chided, tugging the other back in by the back of his tee, smile spread wide when he conceded, settling back down to gaze at the writer.

"That's a yes then?"

"That's a yes." Mark confirmed with a nod, head resting on the seat as their gaze held.

"Okay." Jinyoung whispered between them, silence blanketing the car, comfortable, familiar. They spent many nights at the studio in silence, working away together, sharing a few words out of necessity, but other then that, easy. It was always easy with Jinyoung. Hinging forwards, Mark met him in the middle, velvet lips cushioning his. The writer sighed into the kiss, digits taking the actor's face in his hands, thumbs smoothing over this cheek bones. They broke apart, another two kisses pecked on each of the blonde's cheeks, a warm giggle bursting from his chest.

"Good night Mark." Jinyoung bid, stepping out the car as the author watched him.

"Good night." he whispered, waving at Jinyoung through the window of the now closed door. He remained parked, eyes trained on Jinyoung's retreating form, skipping up the steps and waving over his shoulder once more. It was only when he lost sight of the actor into the house when Mark exhaled, chest light as wings grew on his heart, letting out a high-pitched cackle, bouncing in his seat as he revved up the car, music booming along with the beat in his veins. It would be when he got home that he would see the message that illuminated his phone.

jinyoungie : keep the music down you hooligan, my neighbours will complain.
jinyoungie : sleep well baby, I'll call you in the morning. my little genius.