Archive of Our Own

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” - Richard Siken, Crush. 

***

Jeno didn’t like accidents— he hated them most ardently. His life was a series of highlighted to-do lists with neat checkboxes and detailed monthly planners. Every move he made was carefully curated, he could even sort his feelings into storage boxes in his mind– some may call it emotionally constipated but Jeno called it organised. 

Falling for Mark Lee, though? That was a complete and utter accident. The kind that caused car crashes and bad falls that ended with scratches on knees. 

Jeno wasn’t supposed to be talking to Mark in the first place, let alone falling in love with him.

He didn’t have anything against the other boy, it was more in solidarity for his best friend Jaemin, who had everything against him. (Although back in high school, when Mark and Jaemin’s rivalry was at its prime, Jeno would go to the school play to watch his best friend but find himself watching Mark, wondering how his best friend could hate a boy so naturally charismatic with his shiny stage makeup and darkly lined eyes). 

As cruel as it sounded, Mark was supposed to be a distraction. He was supposed to be hazy nights of touches under the fairy lights in Jeno’s room and kissing each other into a dreamlike state. Mark was nothing more than an escape from Jeno’s complicated reality of difficult classes, lonely nights and harbouring feelings for—

Well, that didn’t matter right now. 

This thing with Mark started at the root of all bad decisions: a college party. 

The basement of Dejun’s frat was alive with strobe lights and loud music. Jeno was sitting on the couch, nursing a beer in his hand while he made conversation with Yangyang. He was distracted as something pink and vibrant on the dancefloor caught his eyes. 

There Jaemin was: a glow stick wrapped around his head serving as a neon halo, grinning brightly at the boy in front of him. All teeth under red hues. For some reason, Jeno couldn’t pull his eyes away. Jaemin wrapped his arms around the other boy— Hyunjin Hwang, Jeno realised–and pulled him closer. They swayed together on the dance floor, Hyunjin leaned in to whisper something into Jaemin’s ear, he laughed loudly and if Jeno strained he could probably hear it over the music. Something unpleasant swirled in the pits of his stomach— it felt red, hot and ugly. He disliked the feeling strongly. 

“Why are you glaring at Jaemin?”

Jeno startled, heartbeat picking up at being caught. Yangyang’s voice was right against his ear. That boy had no sense of physical boundaries. He turned to face the boy and tilted his head in confusion. 

“I wasn’t glaring at Jaemin.” He said.

Yangyang gave Jeno a disbelieving look. He looked at the pair on the dance floor and then looked back at Jeno.

“Oh I see,” he mused, “You’re not glaring at Jaemin, you’re glaring at Hyunjin.”

Jeno furrowed his eyebrows, “Why would I glare at Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin was nice. Jeno liked Hyunjin. 

“I don’t know Jeno, you tell me.” His eyes were fixed on Jeno, like he was trying to stare directly into his soul. 

Jeno pushed his face away with his palm. “Stop being weird.”

Yangyang just laughed. Jeno took a sip of his beer and turned to look at the pair again, this time for only a second.

“What’s going on with Hyunjin and Jaemin?” He relented.

Yangyang gave him a smug smile.

“How would I know? Jaemin is your best friend.”

“I know but like… do you know if they’re hooking up or something?” He asked.

Yangyang hummed, “Renjun told me that Hyunjin’s helping him with the dance recital.”

“Oh…” Jeno trailed off. Why should it matter to him if Jaemin and Hyunjin were getting close? It was none of his business. If anything he should be happy for Jaemin. Yeah, he was happy for his friend who deserved good things like pretty boys and a good grade in dance.

“Maybe Jaemin is thanking him for the help,” Yangyang said, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. His words poured gasoline over the sparks in Jeno’s chest, the flames were seething hot and way too damn loud. Jeno really didn’t like his tone.

He stood up, suddenly. The room spinned slightly as he did so. 

“I’m going to find something stronger.” He told Yangyang, gesturing towards his half empty beer. The younger boy’s maniacal laugh followed him as he walked away.

The upstairs area was just as rowdy as the basement. Jeno had to shove past a group of people chanting as Yukhei did a keg stand and narrowly avoided running headfirst into a couple making out. He entered the kitchen which was mostly empty save for one Mark Lee, who was on the floor and digging through the cabinet under the sink.

Jeno hovered awkwardly by the door, the counter was lined with multiple jugs filled with punch and he wondered if he could discreetly get some and leave. Before he could make a move, Mark glanced up from his search and startled when he caught sight of Jeno. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Jeno asked in amusement. 

Mark frowned and looked back into the cabinet, “No, I just– aha! Found it,” he pulled out a bottle of Bailey’s. 

Jeno’s eyes widened, “How did you know that was in there?”

Mark shrugged, standing up. “Ten’s secret stash, you want some?” 

He’s never been particularly close with Mark, despite running around in the same social circles and going to high school together. He’s always had this instinct to be wary around the boy— he realised in mild horror that it was less of an instinct and more of Jaemin’s incessant bitching chipping away at his subconscious. 

So instead of being cautious, he nodded. 

“Yes please, it’s in my best interest to forget tonight,” 

He picked up a red solo cup from the stack of unused ones and wrote his name on it with one of the permanent markers the house owners had graciously left out. 

“Tough night?” Mark asked. 

He grabbed Jeno’s cup from his hands, warm fingers brushing slightly over his, and poured a stingy amount of liquor into it. 

He pulled the cup towards his lips to avoid answering and took the drink like a shot.

“Ugh,” he winced, “That’s awfully strong,” 

Mark giggled, smile widening and eyes curling in a way that made Jeno feel— well, he filed that thought away for later.

He would never admit this out loud, but he had always thought Mark was quite attractive. A boy who changed his hair colour with the seasons and experimented with his clothing– tonight he was wearing sleek leather pants accompanied with a sheer shirt and way too many necklaces– what’s not to love?

Mark took a sip straight from the bottle. Jeno was too busy focusing on the way his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed to be disgusted by it.  

“Fuck, you’re right this sucks,” he said as he pulled away, wiping his mouth, “There’s only one way to drink Baileys,”

“And that is...?” Jeno asked, curious. 

A brazen grin took over Mark’s face, he set the bottle on the counter, “I’ll show you,”

He went to open the freezer, which was very much off-limits, but he figured Mark didn’t care much for the rules. 

Mark pulled out a tub of vanilla ice cream and set it on the counter, along with a couple of spoons and a cup for himself. He scooped the ice cream out and stuck it into Jeno’s cup, following it with a generous amount of Baileys. 

“Try it,” 

So Jeno did, “Holy fuck, that’s incredible.”

Mark’s eyes lit up in joy, “Right? Baileys and ice cream was the best life lesson my mom has ever taught me,”

Jeno laughed and took another bite of his ice cream. 

The rest of the night was spent sitting together on the kitchen floor and finishing the bottle along with the frat’s tub of ice cream. Jeno made a note to apologise to Dejun later– if he remembered to. Both of them were getting drunker by each serving, giving up on scooping the ice cream out and eating it straight from the tub. Jeno rambled on about whatever topic popped in his head, words getting sloppier with each sip of his milky drink. Mark didn’t seem to mind, eyes wide and hanging on to every word that tumbled ungracefully out of Jeno’s mouth.

Jeno stretched his legs out, jeans riding up slightly as his legs pressed against the cool kitchen tiles. Mark followed his movements with the subtlety of a– well– a drunk guy trying to check someone out. Jeno quirked his eyebrows up in amusement, Mark’s grin in return lacked any sort of shame. They were both incredibly intoxicated. 

Mark moved closer into his space, they were touching shoulders now. He was close enough for Jeno to notice the velvet red liner painted across his eyelids. Red looked good on him. 

Jeno chugged the last bit of his melted ice cream.

“You know, it’s weird that we don’t talk more.” he said, “we’ve known each other forever,”

“I assumed you hated me,” Mark answered, almost too casually.

“Why would I hate you?” 

Mark gave him a blank stare, like the answer should be obvious.

“Jaemin,”

Oh right, Jaemin. 

“I don’t hate you Mark,” Jeno replied genuinely, “Jaemin does, he hates you so much, it’s kind of hilarious– but I think you’re cute– cool,”

The words tumbled out quickly, at least Jeno was sober enough to correct himself before Mark could catch on.

“You think I’m cute?” A teasing smile took over the other boy’s face.

Okay, maybe not.

“I never said that!” Jeno defended, or at least tried to.

“That’s a shame,” Mark drawled on, he leaned in closer to Jeno and lowered his voice like he was about to spill a secret, “because I think you’re cute,”

Jeno gulped, suddenly feeling nervous and much too hot under Mark’s careful gaze. He blinked through his blearly vision, fully focusing on Mark– more specifically on the way the boy was staring at his lips.

Now Jeno may be an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid, he could take a hint.

He leaned in closer and– 

The kitchen door slammed open. The two boys ripped away from each other in an instant. 

And because the entities that ruled the universe were big fans of toying with Jeno, it was Jaemin who sauntered in. 

His eyes lit up when he caught sight of Jeno. 

“Jeno! I’ve been looking for you all night!” he said, rushing over.

He stopped short when he noticed Mark was also there.

“Mark Lee,” he greeted coldly, “Fancy seeing you here,” 

Mark rolled his eyes, “You mean at our mutual friend’s frat party? Yeah, what a shocker,” 

Jeno sniggered, Jaemin gave him a horribly exaggerated look of betrayal. 

“Chill out Jaeminnie!” Jeno called out, “Drink with us!” 

He picked up the bottle to offer it to Jaemin, frowning when he realised it was lighter than usual.

“Oh, it’s empty,” he mumbled.

“Oh babe, you’re really drunk,” Jaemin observed. Then he glared at Mark as if it was somehow his fault. Which wasn’t a far-off assumption. Mark shrugged nonchalantly. 

“It’s almost four,” Jaemin said, “Do you want to go home?” 

Jeno sighed dejectedly, mourning the night he would’ve had if Jaemin hadn’t walked in. It was probably for the best though, Jeno wasn’t a one night stand kind of person. 

“Fine,” he said, “But you’ll have to carry me, I think I might die if I stand up on my own,”

Mark giggled again, and dear god, he needed to stop doing that. Jeno didn’t like how it made him feel. It was the kind of sound that could pull flowers towards it and cause angels to sing. 

Jeno threw his arms up in Jaemin’s general direction, gesturing for the boy to help him up. He sighed in response.

“I got you,” he said, pulling Jeno up and grabbing him before he could tumble off balance. 

“You’re so sturdy, Nana,” Jeno replied, throwing an arm over Jaemin’s shoulder and leaning against him, “Like a tree.” 

“Thanks?” Jaemin replied.

“Bye Mark!” Jeno yelled out, just before they left, “Thanks for the ice cream!”

Mark waved back enthusiastically, still sitting on the floor and looking completely relaxed. Jeno wouldn't be surprised if he fell asleep there. 

“See you later Jeno,”

That night was what began a strange push and pull between Mark and Jeno. The classic will they or won’t they from a teen romcom but Jeno was the only one watching the movie. He decided it was wiser to keep his attraction to Mark to himself. It would do more harm than good to tell anyone anyway. They only saw each other at parties and studying on different ends of the campus meant they never ran into each other during the day. Jeno didn’t see this as a good thing— everything was more dangerous during the dark. 

Jeno who usually wasn’t a fan of big crowds and loud music, found himself looking forward to party invitations. Stepping out of his comfort zone was worth it when he could steal away ten minutes of the night to flirt with Mark and try more of his strange alcohol concoctions. Both of them were toeing the line of something great– or something reckless– but never crossing over. It was the same routine. Jeno would get drunk off stolen liquor and make fun of Mark, the boy would laugh good naturedly because he enjoyed a bit of teasing. In return, he’d flirt boldly, courageously, in a way that made Jeno shyer then he’d like to admit. It never turned into anything more than heavy set glances and a tipsy Mark tracing his fingers up Jeno’s arm, feather light touches. Like he was something fragile.

It never turned into anything more, until—

It was party number four– five? They all blurred into each other like a mosaic of memories. The pair of them snuck into the upstairs area. It was out of bounds but Mark claimed it was okay because he knew the owners. They were sitting out on the balcony, the cool night air kissing their faces as they drank tequila out of plastic cups. Mark even managed to steal some slices of limes for them.

Mark was laughing, he always seemed to be laughing around Jeno. The light breeze pushed his hair back, he was leaning against the railing, brilliant smile across his face as he listened to Jeno speak.

“Okay, I have a confession,” Mark said, eyes sparkling, “I thought you were so intimidating during high school,” 

Jeno’s jaw dropped in disbelief, intimidating, that was a new one. 

“I know, I know,” Mark said, grin getting wider at his reaction, “You’re like the least scariest person ever, but in high school you seemed like Jaemin’s broody bodyguard.”

Jeno snorted, “I was broody in high school. It was awful, be glad you didn’t know me back then,”

Mark wrinkled his nose, “I refuse to believe there’s any version of you that’s awful,”

“Naive little Mark,” Jeno responded airily as he ruffled the boy’s hair.

Mark frowned at him and reached up to fix it.

“Your turn,” Mark said, “What did you think of me in high school?”

Jeno hummed, “I simply didn’t think of you,”

“Hey!” Mark yelped in offence, slapping the side of Jeno’s arm. 

Jeno laughed loudly, “Fine, fine, I thought you were intriguing. You were so confident and unapologetic and it was–well– nice to see for a closeted kid like me,” 

He felt his cheeks heat up at his own oversharing. He didn’t mean to do that.

Mark’s eyes widen, his own cheeks dusting with pink. 

“I wasn’t expecting something so…”

“Lame?”

“Genuine,” Mark corrected, the moon reflecting in his eyes, “Thank you,”

Jeno smiled timidly. Mark hadn’t been scared off yet, this was a good sign. 

“Enough serious talk,” Jeno said, effectively breaking the moment, “Let’s do another shot,” 

The moon disappeared and pure mischief took over Mark as he poured tequila into Jeno’s cup. They clinked their plastic cups together and took the shot, Mark handed Jeno one of the slices of lime from the table beside them.

He watched as Mark brought the liquor wet lime to his lips and took a bite, pulling it clean off the peel. He pulled away and bore his teeth at Jeno, a smile unlike any other, something lionlike and promising of danger. Jeno rivalled his grin with one of his own. He decided then that he’s had enough of circling Mark like they were performing a regency dance. It was time he did something about it. 

He leaned in and kissed the bitter taste off the other’s mouth. Mark’s body responded immediately, an arm snaking around Jeno’s waist to pull him closer.

Mark tasted like liquor and vanilla. He kissed Jeno slowly, taking his time to draw out sweet sighs from the boy. Jeno was pressed against the railing, shirt riding up and gasping as the cool metal touched his skin. Mark took the opportunity to slide his tongue in.

His hands slip under Jeno’s shirt, warm hands trailing up the slope of his waist and thumbs brushing at the bottom of his binder. Jeno pulled away, being barely inches away from Mark revealed just how wrecked he looked– eyes darkened like the deepest of chasms, heavy breathing and lips turning red– and all just from kissing. This was doing wonders for Jeno’s ego. 

“Sorry,” Mark mumbled, pulling his hands away from Jeno’s skin, “We can slow down,” 

“No, no it’s fine,” Jeno breathed out, slowing down was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. “I was just gonna– do you want to get out of here?” 

Mark raised his eyebrows, looking completely off guard, as if everything about Jeno basically throwing himself at the boy didn’t scream take me home. 

“I’d love to,” Mark said, “My place should be free,”

“Perfect,” Jeno pulled away completely and held his hand out for Mark to take, “Shall we?”

Mark took his hand, face still flushed pink but smiling softly. And it was back— the moon. 

They stumbled into Mark’s apartment, sobering up and giggling like idiots. It was dark and Mark stubbed his toe into the couch and their kisses were messy and it was perfect. Mark pressed Jeno against the kitchen counter and trailed kisses down his neck. Jeno pulled him into Mark’s room like he owned the place, eagerly pushing him into the bed. Jeno huffed in frustration as he struggled to work the zipper on Mark’s skirt, he giggled, teasing Jeno for being impatient as he unzipped it himself. It was fun, lighthearted in a way that left Jeno feeling giddy. Somewhere in between leaving bruises on each other’s skin, the hair pulling and heavy breathing, Jeno pulled away and whispered, “I’m not looking for anything serious,” and Mark bit the shell of his ear, making him groan and replied with “Me neither”.  

And that was all they were supposed to be.

You see, dear reader, Jeno had never been good at the no strings thing. He’d done it once before— back in high school when Yeji Hwang wanted to experiment kissing with someone she trusted. It had not been good for either of them. Two angst-ridden teenagers meeting up to make out at parks and empty alleyways– one of whom was in the midst of his gender identity crisis, it was bound to end in flames. He was on good terms with Yeji now, they got brunch together every Sunday. But the point was: Jeno couldn’t deal with casual. 

It was too uncertain, reckless– it was ink blots staining the neatly printed schedules of Jeno’s life. 

He couldn’t deal with it, and yet he found himself going back each time. It wasn’t long before their hookups transcended the fog of college parties and the safety blanket of the night sky. He started seeing Mark more frequently. They exchanged numbers, met up after class, made out in broad daylight. Jeno was waiting for the shoe to drop, for it to stop being fun and start being stressful. But it never happened. Mark was great, he was understanding and kind, he could read Jeno like a book, finding exactly what made him tick—what made him shiver.  Jeno wanted to keep it that way, lighthearted and enjoyable. 

He knew exactly what they needed: a comprehensive set of rules. 

He brought it up with Mark during one of their many mornings after. 

Jeno woke up to the cold air hitting his bare torso, Mark always kept the a.c. on low. He blindly reached over to pull the covers back from Mark, who had an ironclad grip on it even in his sleep. The boy whined, slapping Jeno’s hand away. Jeno huffed and pulled harder, refusing to be left out in the cold to die. Eventually, Mark sleepily relented, pulling the blanket along with him as he threw an arm over Jeno and snuggled into the boy’s side. 

“Good morning,” he mumbled, lips against Jeno’s collarbone. 

“Morning,”  Jeno replied, voice still rough from sleep. Slowly trickling back into consciousness as Mark traced patterns over his bare skin. “Do you have anything today?”

Mark hummed, lifting his head up to look at Jeno, “I have classes in the afternoon, you?”

“I have plans with Jaemin later but that’s it,”

A smile took over Mark’s face, no teeth but still bright enough to make flowers bloom.

“Perfect,” he said, “We have the entire morning to ourselves,”

He leaned in to capture Jeno’s lips in a kiss, lazy, teeth clashing slightly as Jeno smiled against it, Mark tugging at his lower lip– neither of them were putting much effort into it, but it was perfect regardless. 

Jeno pulled away just as Mark’s hands wandered towards the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“Wait–” he said, sitting up on his elbows, “Can we talk first?”

A worried expression immediately took over Mark’s face and when he spoke again it was gentle, 

“Are you okay?”

Jeno let out a shallow breath, not expecting Mark to get so serious so quickly.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine,” he reassured, “I just wanted to talk about–um– us?”

“Oh, sure,” Mark said, he sat up properly, “Do you want to talk over breakfast?”

Jeno swallowed, nerves bubbling up like lava in the pit of his stomach, waiting to erupt.

“I could eat,”

They went to a breakfast at a hole in the wall place just outside campus. Mark sat across from Jeno, digging into a plate of waffles while he could only pick at his food. Under the table, their ankles were locked together, Jeno tried not to think about it too much. Jeno took a wary sip of his iced mocha and cleared his throat. 

“We should talk about what we’re doing,” he said.

Mark gave him a curious look, swallowing his food. 

“We’re just sleeping together– is there anything to talk about?”

“I mean,” Jeno began, “Casual relationships always end up so messy and I want to avoid that,”

“That makes sense,” Mark said, resting his chin on his palm, “We can agree to be honest with each other,”

Jeno nodded, “Maybe we should set out a list of ground rules,”

Mark’s eyebrows quirk up in amusement, “Rules?”

“Yeah,” Jeno insisted, “So we can establish boundaries or what not,”

Jeno was well aware that he was starting to sound like he was making a business transaction instead of talking with his– to put to gently– fuck buddy. But Mark didn’t seem too bothered. 

“What did you have in mind?” Mark asked.

“Well,” Jeno said, “Maybe we should hold off on telling people, for now,”

Mark frowned, “I’m pretty sure Donghyuck has figured it out,” 

Right, Donghyuck. Jeno’s good friend and unfortunately Mark’s roommate who Jeno has encountered in their shared kitchen more times than he is proud of.

“I’m sure my roommate knows too,” Yangyang was definitely suspicious, he just hasn’t brought it up to Jeno yet.

“I’m sure they won’t tell anyone if we ask them no to. I just–” he sighed, feeling guilty for even bringing this up, “I just don’t want Jaemin to find out,”

The guilt deepened as an offended expression clouded Mark’s eyes. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed or anything,” he said hastily, “I just don’t know how Jaemin would react to this . He’s quite unpredictable, it’s safer to keep it from him,” 

“You don’t need to explain, I get it,” Mark said, yet he still sounded guarded. Jeno didn’t know what to say to ease his worry, so instead he changed the subject.

“Do you have any rule suggestions?”

Mark answered his question with another question; one he wasn’t expecting.

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

“No,” he replied, feeling his cheeks redden as he did so, “Are you?”

“No,” Mark said, “Should we agree to keep this exclusive, you know for like– safety,” 

He smiled as Mark awkwardly stuttered the words out, his own cheeks dusting with pink.

“Sure, let’s keep it exclusive,”

Falling for Mark happened slowly, like the orbiting of planets, gradual but inevitable. It snuck up on Jeno, seeping into the cracks in his skin and coursing through his veins until it engulfed him completely. It was the little things. It was Mark buying an extra coffee mug— with cats on it— for Jeno in the mornings. It was how he always wanted to be the little spoon, sleepily dragging Jeno’s arm over his waist and snuggling so close they could have been mistaken for one person. It was the way Mark existed loudly, unafraid of his own voice and still managed to be painfully gentle. A hand on Jeno’s nape, a thumb caressing his cheek, curious eyes and soft smiles. It was impossible to think of Mark as anything other than a creature of love. 

Mark slipped into Jeno’s life just as easily as he slid their hands together, filling up the space between his fingers and fitting perfectly. 

Suddenly, Mark was everywhere.

He was there in Jeno’s room, messing around with the guitar Jeno hadn’t touched in years— completely shirtless. He would sit on Jeno’s bed like it was his and strum away at the instrument, singing whatever song was stuck in his head. And he was good at it, because he was annoyingly good at everything. His eyes would sparkle when Jeno handed him a cup of coffee, pulling him into a kiss until the guitar between them got into the way. Jeno would chuckle and kiss Mark’s bare shoulder as the boy made space for him to sit. 

He was there when Jeno was up to his neck in assignments. Sitting next to him and working on his own papers because he knew Jeno needed others around him to be productive. Listening to Jeno as he ranted about his workload. Coaxing him out of the library when he needed to take a break with the promise of boba and well— other things. 

Similarly, Jeno was there for Mark too. The boy who took care of others yet failed to take care of himself. Who chided Jeno about his sleep schedule but stayed awake during the quiet hours of the night typing away on his laptop. He was in a creative writing program and while it was his passion, Jeno could tell it took a lot from him. It was especially obvious when he didn’t text Jeno for days– they texted daily now and Jeno tried not to think about it too much– or when he posted a selfie on his finsta sporting a fresh new hair colour. Mark had a real problem when it came to stress dyeing his hair. Times like this, Jeno would go over to Mark’s apartment and usually find him asleep at his desk, glasses falling off his nose and glare from his laptop lighting up his face. He’d smile softly, without knowing he was doing it, and placed the thai take out he brought on the desk. He shook Mark’s shoulders lightly. The boy stirred, eyes rimmed with red opening up.

“Hey,” Jeno said quietly, “You’re going to wreck your back,”

Mark could barely keep his eyes open, blinking slowly. 

“What time is it?” he croaked out. 

“Almost seven,”

“Oh, fuck,” Mark said, sitting up. His hair was sticking up and he had indents on his face from sleeping on the computer. He looked adorable. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,”

“It’s good you did,” Jeno said, eyebrows furrowing. “Donghyuck said you pulled an allnighter,”

Mark rubbed at his eyes, “Yeah, I really need to get this done,”

“You also need to, like, survive,” Jeno scolded. He knew the power his frown held, “Get in bed,” 

Mark wiggled his eyebrows, grinning widely. 

Jeno rolled his eyes. Even sleep deprived, Mark couldn’t help himself.

“Not like that idiot,” he said, “Go to sleep, you have nothing to offer me when you’re tired as shit anyway.” 

Mark pouted, “Meanie,” 

Jeno reached over to take off his glasses, Mark closed his eyes on instinct. Again, adorable. 

He put the glasses down on the table and smiled amusedly as Mark kept his eyes close. 

“I hope you’re not expecting me to carry you,”

Mark opened his eyes, they shone brightly in the darkness. He held his arms out at Jeno and made the grabby hands gesture. Jeno sighed, grabbing his arms and yanking him up.

When Mark finally collapsed onto the bed, Jeno turned to leave. The boy grabbed his arm before he could move. 

“Stay,” he said. 

Jeno glanced back at him, face pressed against the pillow, big eyes looking up at him. He looked so inviting. 

“I’m not tired,” he replied.

“Please?” Mark tried. And how could he say no to that?

As he got under the covers and wrapped his arms around Mark’s torso, he realised that he’d never spent the night with Mark unless they had sex first. 

“Jeno,” Mark mumbled, turning his head and meeting Jeno’s eyes. 

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

“Gimme a goodnight kiss,”

He froze— and then realised this was something he’d done countless times before. Jeno leaned in and pecked Mark on the lips, the boy smiled sleepily in return. 

“Goodnight Jeno,”

“Night, Mark,”

So that was Jeno and Mark. They became a part of each other’s lives. So normal– so domestic. To the point where Jeno had to take a step back, a deep breath, and remember that they weren’t actually boyfriends. 

“You’re in love with him,” Yangyang said through a mouth full of instant ramen. 

Jeno looked up from his own noodles and fixed Yangyang with a confused look.

“What?”

“Mark. You’re in love with him,” he repeated. 

“That’s absurd,” 

“You’ve been talking about him non-stop for the last twenty minutes,” 

“I like talking about my friends,” Jeno shrugged, “I talk about Jaemin a lot too,” 

“That’s a whole other can of worms,” Yangyang mumbled. Jeno tilted his head in question but the boy waved him away. “Look, you spend every waking moment together, you’re texting him constantly and you spend almost every night at his apartment!” 

Jeno frowned, “We’re just hooking up,” 

Yangyang gave him a blank look. 

“I’m pretty sure fuck buddies don’t take pottery classes together,”

“We’re friends.” Jeno said defensively. “Friends do shit like that all the time,” 

“Let me get this straight,” Yangyang said,  “You’re friends who exclusively hook up with each other and happen to go on occasional dates?” 

Jeno took a second to think about it. And then nodded. 

Yangyang looked exasperated.

“There’s no way you’re this stupid. Please tell me you’re being obtuse on purpose,”

Jeno stared at Yangyang. 

Yangyang stared back. 

Jeno groaned, deflating into his chair.

“Okay, fine!” 

“Aha!” Yangyang cried out victoriously, “I knew it!”  

Jeno huffed, pushing his noodles away. He no longer had an appetite. 

“I can’t like Mark,” he said. 

“You don’t like him,” Yangyang said, “You love him,”

“I can't love him either!” Jeno whined out, sounding just a little bit pathetic, “This wasn’t part of the plan,”

“What plan?”

He waved his hands around frantically, “ My life plan! Nowhere in my bullet journal does it say to fall in love with Mark Lee!” 

Yangyang looked seconds away from bursting a blood vessel.

“Oh my god, I fucking hate you,” he said, massaging the bridge of his nose, “Jeno, you can’t plan falling in love with someone, it just happens! It’s unpredictable! That’s the beauty of it!” 

Jeno wrinkled his nose, “Dating Dejun changed you,”

“Shut up, we’re talking about your Leo boy not mine.”

“He’s not mine,” Jeno mumbled, “He said he wasn’t looking for anything serious,”

“That was months ago,” Yangyang replied, “Maybe he changed his mind,”

But did Jeno change his mind? 

Mark was supposed to be fun, a breath of fresh air. Pondering over whether or not he’s in love? That was most definitely not fun . 

“I don’t know what to do, Yangyang,” 

“Talk to him.” 

Yes, because Jeno had a great track record when it came to talking about his feelings.

“He probably doesn’t even like me,” Jeno reasoned.

“You won’t know unless you talk to him,” 

“What if I––” 

“Just talk to him.” 

Jeno glared at the other boy. 

“This conversation is over,” he said, pushing the chair back and standing up from the table. He could hear Yangyang giggling as he walked away. 

That was the last time he agreed to a family dinner with his roommate.

Pottery class was an idea suggested by Jeno’s therapist. She thought a new hobby would be beneficial for Jeno; that it would help him relax. He didn’t know how to break it to her that he already had a plenty relaxing hobby so he took her suggestion instead.  Jeno offhandedly mentioned it to Mark once over breakfast and he immediately  found them classes that were affordable for college kids. Because Mark was just like that.

“Dr. Young straight up lied to me,” Jeno said, watching his sad excuse of a bowl spin around pathetically. “This is the most stressful experience of my life,” 

“You can’t expect to be perfect after your first attempt,” Mark said from his own pottery wheel where his vase actually looked like a vase. Of course Mark was good at this. Of course. He was starting to understand Jaemin’s hatred.

“You forget who you’re talking to,” Jeno replied. 

Mark stopped spinning his wheel. Jeno was too focused on his bowl to pay attention to the other boy’s movements but he gave him a suspicious side eye as he felt the boy move closer. 

“Here, you’re pressing too hard,” Mark said from behind him, arms creeping up over his

Jeno startled, “What the hell are you doing?” 

Mark pulled away, frowning, “I’m doing the scene from Ghost,” 

He turned his head to glare at the boy but he only grinned in response. Mark gently placed his hands over Jeno’s own. Clay covered fingertips tracing down the back of his palms. He led Jeno’s movements, their hands moved together over the soft clay. It was relaxing–– and strangely romantic.

“If you’re hoping to get a makeout session out of this it’s not happening,” Jeno said.

“But we have to stay true to the movie!” Mark complained.

“You’re shameless,” 

He looked unapologetic. 

Mark’s guidance was anything but helpful. The clay tipped over, spilling over both their hands and leaving a mess in its wake. Jeno tried to pull away but Mark kept his hands there, creating an even bigger mess. 

Jeno laughed, pulling away and making sure to coat clay all over Mark’s arms. 

“You’re right, it’s more fun to just let go,” he said. 

“I’m usually right about most things.”

“And… moment over,” Jeno said, shoving his elbow back against Mark’s torso and smiling in satisfaction as he groaned in pain.

“Whatever,” Mark huffed out bitterly, standing back up and moving to his own seat. “At least my pottery is better than yours,”

Jeno glowered, “Low fucking blow, Lee,”

The rest of the lesson went smoothly. Jeno nearly pulled a muscle laughing at Mark’s antics. His pile of clay received a disappointed stare from the instructor and Mark let him paint his vase as compensation.

Before they left, Mark handed him the paper bag with his vase in it. 

“For you,” he said, “Maybe I’ll buy you some roses to match,”

Well, that wasn’t good for Jeno’s easy heart.

“I prefer lilies,”

“Funeral flowers?”

“The pink ones aren’t for funerals!” 

Mark sighed wistfully, locking their fingers together and pulling Jeno closer. 

“You’re so picky,”

And even later, if Jeno kept his finger on the photo of him on Mark’s instagram story–– his close friends story–– while he started at the caption pottery date for longer then he was proud of. If he spent the rest of the night thinking does he really mean date or was he just saying it?, then it was no one else’s business but his own.

Jeno was starting to think Yangyang was right. This wasn’t something he said often. In fact, he’s probably never said it once during their entire friendship. But maybe, just maybe, Mark and Jeno were acting more like boyfriends than anything else. 

Friends with benefits definitely didn’t go grocery shopping together. 

In Jeno’s defence, he invited Mark over for sex. But then Mark got hungry and started complaining about Jeno never having any food in his dorm and before they knew it, they were at the local supermarket arguing over which flavour of popcorn to buy.

“Sweet and salty is gross,” Jeno hissed out, trying not to attract attention themselves. 

“You’re gross,” Mark replied childishly. 

“Your new skirt is gross,” Jeno bit back, because he wasn’t above being a little immature himself.

Mark gasped scandalously, “Take that back!”

“No.” Jeno jut his chin out in defiance, “The length is awkward, the mesh is weird and it’s such a pain to take off,”

Mark gaped at him, “Wow, you really didn’t hold back. Just for that we’re getting the sweet and salty and the lemon iced tea,”

He threw the popcorn packets into the cart and marched over to the drinks aisle. 

“But I wanted peach!” Jeno called out after him. 

The only item on the list they could agree on was the ice cream. Mint chocolate chip, obviously. 

“We’re getting so much junk food,” Jeno pointed out while Mark loaded the cart with ice cream. 

“Keen observation darling,” Mark replied snarkily, clearly still bitter about earlier. 

“We should get something healthy, like fruit,”

Mark wrinkled his nose, “Gross, anyways next on the list is doritos,”

“You’re going to die,” 

Mark shrugged, pushing the trolley away, “The good die young.”

He rolled his eyes, how pretentious. Jeno made his way to the fruit section and got a few apples because Mark wasn’t the boss of him.

Mark ended up paying for the groceries. Jeno had pulled out his wallet at the counter and after an embarrassingly long argument in front of the unimpressed looking cashier, he finally relented and let Mark pay. 

Jeno lectured Mark about the importance of carrying reusable bags, Mark called him annoying for nagging but pulled him closely by the waist as they walked and kissed his cheek anyway. It was normal. It was fine. 

By the time they walked out of the grocery store, it was so late that was parking lot was mostly empty save for Jeno’s car. 

“That took longer than necessary,” Jeno said as Mark slid into the passenger seat. Their groceries were safely buckled into the backseat.

“Neither of us can make a decision to save our lives,” 

“We’d be terrible if we moved in together,” Jeno chuckled, “Imagine doing this every week.”

“If we what?” Mark said, fixing him with a curious stare, “You want to move in with me?”

Jeno blanched, thankful that the dim lighting concealed the reddening of his cheeks.

“I just–– um–– I meant that–”

Mark’s eyes curled up as he started laughing, “I’m just teasing Jen, you can unclench,”

He slapped the boy’s shoulder, “Dickhead,”

Mark leaned in closer, street lights illuminating his face in brilliant orange hues. 

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,”

“And you’re annoying,”

“I’m going to kiss you now,” 

Jeno felt it, the surge of pure, unadulterated emotion that came with hearing the boy you love declare that he was going to kiss you. There was no denying it now. Not when his chest ached with longing. Not when Mark was right there for the taking but not his to take. 

“So do it,” he breathed out. 

Mark grabbed the back of Jeno’s neck and pulled him close. He kissed Jeno like a prayer, like he was searching for meaning in his lips. Tilting his head, grip tightening on his nape, something akin to desperation. Jeno kissed him back just as fierce, if not more. Hands fisting at his shirt, shifting in his seat to lean in closer, ignoring the sharp pain of the gear stick digging into his stomach. He couldn’t tell Mark he loved him, but maybe if he kissed him hard enough he would figure it out. 

They were both breathing heavily when they pulled away. Mark’s gaze was unwavering, nearly black and completely unreadable. 

“Holy shit,” Mark said, breathless. “That was––”

“Yeah,” 

It was quiet. Neither of them said a word and Jeno knew Mark felt it too. The intensity of the kiss, how different it was to their others. He stared back at Mark, unable to find the words to say. He recognised Mark’s expression now. Mark understood him. 

They didn’t talk about it. Jeno drove them home, Mark helped him unpack the groceries. They stumbled back in between the sheets with the familiarity that Jeno welcomed. They didn’t talk about it. 

When Jeno woke up the next morning, it was to an empty bed. He cracked his eyes open, surging upward in panic. He did it, he finally scared Mark off. Mark didn’t want serious and last night was beyond it. Mark probably never wanted to see him again.

The door to Jeno’s bedroom opened and Mark walked in carrying two coffee mugs.

Nevermind. 

Jeno leaned back against the headboard and let himself breathe again.

“Morning,” he greeted, voice still raw from sleep.

“Morning,” Mark replied, “I borrowed your clothes, I hope you don’t mind,”

It was merely an oversized shirt and a pair of boxers–– but Jeno was seconds away from swooning. 

He put the mugs down on the bedside table and sat on the bed. He shifted awkwardly, fiddling with the sheets and looking around like it was his first time in Jeno’s room. It was clear something was bothering him. 

“Remember how we agreed to be honest with each other?” Mark began with quite possibly the most terrifying opening sentence to ever be spoken. 

“Are you ending things?” Jeno blurted out, mouth moving before his brain could catch up, “Is this because of last night? I swear I didn’t––”

“Jeno, hey,” Mark cut in gently. He brought a hand up to his shoulder, grounding him back to reality, “You’re fine okay? Just hear me out,” 

He nodded, deciding silence was the better option here.

“This casual thing– it’s– well it’s not working out for me,”

Here it comes, Jeno thought, disappointment and the beginnings of heartbreak starting to flare up inside him. Here it fucking comes. 

“I’m in love with you,” Mark said like a sigh of relief, “So much that it’s driving me crazy,”

Jeno blinked. Failing to keep up.

“You’re what?” 

Mark let out an embarrassed noise, cheeks deepening into a glorious pink. 

“Are you really going to make me say it again?”

“I love you too,” Jeno said before he lost the nerve. “Do you even need me to say it? Isn’t it obvious? I love you, Mark,” 

Mark let out a wet sounding laugh, like he was letting out everything he had been choking down for god knows how long. A trembling hand reached up to rest against Jeno’s neck, sliding against the curve like it belonged there. 

“You have no idea how good it felt to finally say it,” 

Jeno met his eyes, “I think I have some idea,”

Mark leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

“Idiot,” Jeno said, “Of course I’ll be your boyfriend,”

Their happy moment lasted as long as the peace in Mark’s stomach did. Just as Jeno leaned in to kiss his boyfriend properly, his stomach rumbled. 

Mark laughed, forehead resting against Jeno’s.

“Go eat something while I shower,” Jeno said, “Something healthy. Eat a damn apple,”

Mark huffed, pulling away, “Bossy,” 

He pecked Jeno lightly before getting up and venturing into the kitchen. 

While he was collecting fresh clothes for his shower, he heard the door to his dorm room slam open. Followed by a familiar voice crying out:

“What in the everloving fuck?” 

Jeno froze. Realising who it was immediately. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hissed out, “Not Jaemin,”

He scrambled to pick his binder off the floor and threw it on— the first semi presentable thing he found— and pulled his room door open. 

There Jaemin was, staring Mark down in the middle of his kitchen, arms crossed and looking extremely confused. Mark, on the other hand, looked amused and only slightly inconvenienced. 

He had not intended for his best friend to find out this way. 

Jeno sighed. Yeah, he still hated accidents.