Work Text:
"why frown when the sun comes down
when you'll wake up in the morning to such nice sounds"
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Jaebeom isn't really the party type. Yeah, he likes hanging out with his friends from the other school at underground clubs, but that's for the music. It's not about partying and getting wasted and smoking - and he did not realise such a big portion of his class smoked. And the many friends that they have from other schools, too. But because he isn't the party type to do all that, he has found himself sitting in the nearly deserted living room, watching out of the window into the garden where most of the other people are gathered in puffs of smoke.
He started out hanging with his friend Youngjae in the kitchen where all the booze was. The latter was downing shots, telling Jaebeom how much he was going to miss Jackson now that he's going back to Hong Kong, how much he wanted to kiss him but it was too late now and better that he didn't. That was how Jaebeom discovered Youngjae was a tired drunk, and he helped him wobble to the sofa in the living room where he stroked his hair to sleep.
Jackson was the reason Jaebeom was there in the first place. Also mostly the reason Youngjae attended the party, too. After being in their class for many years, Jackson's parents were moving back home to Hong Kong and taking their son with them, with graduation just around the corner. So his friends decided to throw him a goodbye party. Someone's parents were out of town, those who were already of age got their hands on some liquor, and all of Jackson's friends were invited. Jaebeom just so happened to be one of Jackson's many friends.
As Jaebeom watched the others sitting outside, however, his eyes weren't on Jackson. His attention has kept shifting to someone else the entire night. Whenever he passed by him, whenever his voice got carried in the wind and Jaebeom caught a few words he'd said to someone across the lawn, his eyes wandered back to Mark Tuan.
Him and Mark weren't strangers by any means. Jaebeom had come over to Mark's house several times in the past. They've studied together, watched some of Mark's sappy shows together, his head on Mark's shoulders and Mark's hand around him. They never hung out outside the comfort of Mark's apartment though. It wasn't anything odd, or weird, or secretive. They were simply different when it came to their social circles and interest. While Mark hung out with his older friends at skate parks, breaking one bone or another doing tricks and exchanging cigarettes with his mates late at night in some field on his social media, Jaebeom was either home writing and composing or with his mates, recording and mixing. Their circles never overlapped, and that was okay. This was the first time they both attended the same social gathering.
Mark was much more in his element than Jaebeom. He knew everyone at the party, and has dated half of them too. When Jaebeom arrived and was introduced around he was surprised to meet so many names he's heard in Mark's stories, putting faces to the characters of the many anecdotes he's heard over mildly overcooked pasta with Barilla pesto in Mark's kitchen.
And so, Jaebeom found himself fascinated, watching the Mark he's only ever seen through his phone's screen, glowing and illuminating his face as he lay in bed as post after post of Mark and his friends went up. He'd watch them all, right then and there. Mark once told Jaebeom he loved it when the latter knew what he's up to without Mark having to tell him.
There was a loud noise from the kitchen, definitely the Bailey's bottle someone left too close to the edge of the kitchen island breaking, and Jaebeom turned around to see a sticky pool of alcohol on the ground and nobody really minding it. With a sigh he got up from his spot next to the still sleeping Youngjae, covered him with a blanket that was probably meant only for decorative purposes, and made his way over to the kitchen to clean the mess God only knows who made.
Eight paper towels later and some cleaning materials he found under the sink, his name was being called. Well, sort of. "Hey JB!" It was Jackson, from the circle of kids hanging by the small fire someone lit up. "Come join us over here man, don't just hang in there all alone!" Jaebeom disposed of the paper towels and after a quick glance telling him Youngjae was still asleep he made it over to Jackson and his friends. And Mark.
Apparently the fire was an organised feature of the yard, because there were logs around it, polished into benches. Jaebeom sat down at the edge of one of them, the only space available, by a guy he recognised from a previous introduction as Yugyeom. Yugyeom went to a different school, and was Mark's most recent ex. They met through Jackson, who knew everyone in town, and ended on good terms. Yugyeom really did seem like a nice guy. Maybe even Jaebeom's type. Right now he was presenting his Marlboro pack to Jaebeom. "Want one?"
"No, thank you." Jaebeom rejected politely with a smile. Everyone around them was deep in conversation, nobody was paying him any mind. He quickly caught Mark on the other side of the fire talking to some girl he didn't know. They were laughing.
"So you're JB then, huh? I thought you'd be a foreigner, too, with a nickname like that. I guess it's just Jackson and his names though?" Yugyeom lit his own cigarette and tucked away the pack in his pocket. He was smiling at Jaebeom, a little too big. His eyes were the tiniest bit unfocused. He was tipsy.
Jaebeom chuckled in response, thinking of all the times Mark mentioned how endearing Yugyeom could be when he wasn't busy sluttily dancing to crap music. The two of them mostly went out to parties, from what Jaebeom gathered. Mark mostly saw him dancing. "Yeah." Jaebeom answered. "It's short for Jaebeom. Doesn't get much more Korean than that, does it?"
He watched as Yugyeom threw his head backwards and let out a laugh. It was an over the top reaction to something that wasn't even funny to begin with, but his laugh was so bright that it made Jaebeom join him in a laugh of his own. He let himself enjoy the scene while Yugyeom kept up a conversation. As it turns out, Yugyeom had his own dance crew, and Jaebeom, who's dabbled in some b-boying over the years, knew just enough about movement to rhythm to keep Yugyeom entertained.
At some point someone came rushing from inside the house with cans of spray paints and declared they should go to a nearby path nobody really ever goes on and engage in some mild vandalism. Everyone around Jaebeom was just drunk enough to think it's a brilliant idea and that they must share their art with the world, so they all rushed in the dark, stumbling on the uneven ground and yelling at each other to pass the paint. Someone put on some garbage music, some people turned their phones' flashlights on, and the asphalt slowly got painted green and yellow by shaky hands.
Yugyeom was by Jaebeom's side still, his cigarette stomped on the ground as he explained to Jaebeom that he's not actually a big smoker, this was his first pack, he usually just borrows from friends, but then a song came on and in mere seconds Yugyeom was right in the center of the action, giving it his all in his intoxicated state. Jaebeom understood what Mark meant as he watched Yugyeom thrust in the air and hump the rough floor. Body rolls, that's what Yugyeom called them earlier when he talked Jaebeom through his favourite dance moves with seemingly infinite enthusiasm.
And again, Jaebeom's eyes wandered to watch Mark on the other side of the group, spray can in hand, looking thoughtful. Even after he's had who knows how many drinks, Mark was still thoughtful. That was one of the things Jaebeom loved about Mark the most; how calculated he was, how much intent went into anything he did, how despite coming off as reckless and impulsive Mark was brilliant and filled with intelligent thoughts.
Eventually people around Jaebeom started getting tired. There was a lot of scattering and scrambling to collect sleeping bags and random blankets as everyone roamed the house looking for a place to sleep. Jaebeom opted for the floor in a room that looked like an office. Nobody seemed to want to claim the room, and he wanted some peaceful sleep, so he threw his things in and was just about to collect his jacket from the hallway floor (how did it end up there?) when someone grabbed his shoulder. It was Mark. "Jaebeom, you know I really love you, right?"
Love love love. Love you. Jaebeom I love you.
"I know," Jaebeom smiled. "Did you find a spot to sleep in?"
Mark noded. "Downstairs in the guestroom with some of the other guys. You sorted too?"
Jaebeom gestured at his things by the doorway and Mark seemed content enough with that. He flashed Jaebeom one last smile and turned away to drunkenly grasp onto the rail as he made his way down the stairs. For a few moments Jaebeom watched him go, slowly disappearing from his field of view as the stairs took a round turn, before his impulses got the best of him. "Mark, wait!"
The sound of footsteps stopped for a moment, then a few hesitant ones and the latter's face appeared again over the heavy wooden rail. "Yeah?"
His eyes were huge. Dark coffee brown pools that reflected the light like the shiny stars in space photos taken by Hubbel. His cheeks were flushed dusty pink from drinking and the difference in temperature from the cold night outside and the heated indoors. His hair was messed up from how much he's brushed his fingers through it during the night. Mark was a display of teenage foolishness, smelling of cigarette smoke and alcohol, his stance wobbly and gaze unfocused.
"I love you too."