Archive of Our Own ^beta

Six applicants. 

Three who were sloppy from the get-go: didn’t take his shoes off, waltzed into the kitchen to grab himself a beer, and one who already had three luggages ready to unpack.

Two who greedily wanted all their special requests accommodated for: Jungwoo was fine with pets, but one had a bucket list of adopting five exotic reptiles within the next month expecting him to co-parent, and the other warned him about potentially needing a cleaning service particularly for the bathroom if he’s ordered anything for take-out. 

And one who literally knocked on his door at eight in the morning reeking of alcohol and regret. Says he saw the ad for a roommate posted somewhere outside the building, and the receptionist allegedly led him straight to his doorstep. (Jungwoo only posted an ad on Facebook, and shortly after their interaction, the security guard walked up to them and dutifully assisted the guy out of the property.)

Jungwoo groans against the pillow. After a week and a half of letting strangers into his apartment for the possibility of arranging a civil roommate agreement with someone who was at least decent, honest, and didn’t have a drinking problem— clearly it wasn’t going very well. He starts at a new job soon, and it’d be more difficult to find the time to scout any other potential candidates that can share the ridiculous price for rent these days. 

He mulled over his options but neither of them favored his situation. He can’t force himself to move back in with his cousin, Doyoung, since he was sharing the space with his boyfriend now. Nor can he find somewhere else to stay with a price that matches his current contract, much less within a reasonable commuting distance between his workplace.

Besides, Kun and Ten were generous enough to transfer the lease over to his name before they left to go backpacking as a means to spend more time as a couple before settling down completely farther away from the chaos of the metropolis. 

To say the least, most of Jungwoo’s friends seem to have their life figured out with someone special by their side while he has to scour for a person in a situation he’s in: a young, fresh grad pursuing his dreams and have a similar disdain to be tied up at his prime. 

He refuses to believe he’s the only single bachelor out there who has some respect for personal spaces and, if he even has to spell it out, has a good sense of hygiene. 

The buzzing alarm from under the pillow dispelled Jungwoo from his thoughts as he promptly checks what the interruption was for. It was just a text from Doyoung, reminding him of brunch (his treat) a few hours from now, and asking for any updates on the roommate hunt. 

Jungwoo scoffs, not even bothered to skim through the other notifications assuming they were just updates from Instagram or some other form of social media he’s missing out on. 

For good measure, Jungwoo stopped spending on pleasurable things like new merchandise or a trip to the revolving sushi bar just so he has cash saved up in case he needed to pay twice the amount of rent and utilities in the next coming months. 

He did the math, and even though his salary can somehow shoulder much of the unreasonable cost, it would be nice to indulge his materialistic urges once in a while and not be burdened with guilt afterwards. Jungwoo needed a roommate to fill in those gaps, and he needs it fast . 

But today, he just wants to stay in bed as if moaning about his problems would solve them any better. 

A resounding noise courtesy of the newly upgraded doorbell system falls deaf on his ears. Jungwoo never thought to have the landlord adjust the volume because he didn’t expect to have guests while he was still settling in. 

The only people who have entered his apartment post-move was Doyoung and the rest of the applicants. Since Doyoung was definitely still at work at this hour, he has associated the annoying sound from the less than pleasant experiences he’s had over the past couple of days. 

Having been awake in bed for longer than he should have, Jungwoo decides to sit up and stretch his limbs. Completely ignoring whoever wants his attention a few feet away. Not recalling having an “interview” set up after that last unexpected visitor, Jungwoo is growing increasingly frustrated at the incessant assault on his doorbell. 

“Nobody’s home,” Jungwoo mutters childishly, sliding into his indoor slippers and tugging the cardigan closer to his chest. He reaches for the thermostat and winds it to a warmer temperature, internally calculating the added cost to his bills in due time. 

Might as well be comfortable if he were to be left alone, here, to his own devices.

As he reaches the living room, Jungwoo ponders on brewing a pot of decaf or wait it out until brunch. Another thought, he carefully makes his way to the entryway clutching his phone in hand and the other resting against the door frame. 

He angles his body enough for his eyes to circle into the fisheye hole, the emergeny contact number repeating in his mind dare he sees a familiar drunken man back to exact revenge on him.

Surprisingly enough, Jungwoo has never met or seen the person on the other side of the door. He stopped going for the doorbell and Jungwoo thought that was his cue to leave, however, he meets his gaze through the distorted lens scaring himself silly.

It emits a short but hurried yelp from Jungwoo’s mouth, and as he covers it up post-scream, the man in question speaks up. 

“Is.. is anyone home? I’m here for the roommate ad? I texted you about coming here a little earlier today? I don’t know if you got it?” 

“I..didn’t…” Jungwoo trails off, looking back on his phone to check, and there it was. Apart from the correctly assumed Instagram stories from Kun and Ten’s recent travels in Germany, there was a Facebook message and a few texts from an unknown number. 

He taps on the SMS first, the person introducing himself as: “mark lee from fbee hehe :D” then another longer message of: “so yeah i hope you don’t mind if i come in earlier, i really apologize for the sudden change in plans. i’m omw!” 

Jungwoo goes over the chat bubble he and, apparently, Mark Lee shared as recollections of their conversation are starting to return. He sees the messages dated almost two weeks ago which means he’s one of the first who contacted him about the ad. 

According to Mark, he would love to be Jungwoo’s roommate and meet him ASAP but he was out of town until supposedly tomorrow, and if he hadn’t found one by then, in his words: “i’m the one you need :).”

Jungwoo remembers immediately denying said application even though his response read: “we’ll see what the universe will decide for us both haha,” being unaware that could have been one of the lamest exchanges among the pool of candidates and yet none of the others had made the cut. 

Jungwoo had no plan on meeting anybody apart from his prior commitment, so the state of what he’s still wearing and lack of a refreshing rinse to his face wasn’t really a good look on him as the other roommate .

He bites his lip in contemplation. There was no telling who this guy really is or if he’d fare any better than the rejected six. 

“Hello? Jungwoo-ssi? Is this a bad time for you? Did you already get a roommate? Am I interrupting something?”

“If you stop talking for just one second, my head is going to explode.”

“Sorry. Won’t happen again. You just weren’t answering and I heard a scream or something.”

“You’re still talking,” Jungwoo exasperates.

“Sorry! I’ll stop. Now,” Mark hurriedly stays silent which brings Jungwoo a sigh of relief. 

The urge to tell him off in a manner that least likely offends him sounds like a good compromise on Jungwoo’s end, but his mother never raised an impolite host and always encouraged her children to give others the benefit of the doubt. He’d be amiss if he weren’t a mama’s boy and was proud of it. 

So, surrendering to his moral values. Jungwoo opens the door— slightly. He peers through the gap and sees Mark only one more foot into the apartment. Their foreheads bump and Mark tumbles back. 

“Sorry! I didn’t know you were opening the door— or that I was standing way too close,” he mumbles, massaging the spot that made contact. Jungwoo was doing the same, but his expression contrasted that of Mark’s shy and embarrassed demeanor.

He remembers his mom’s words, and takes in a breath. 

With a calmer mind, Jungwoo officially meets Mark’s eyes in partial view from where he stood. Mark was dressed rather nicely, probably wearing a collared shirt beneath his form-fitting sweater, and a bag slung around his chest. No luggages in sight, but he is holding a plastic bag in one hand. So far: normal. 

“Hi,” Mark greets him, still nursing the sore spot. Jungwoo watches Mark as he extends his free hand and smiles, “Sorry, again.”

“Hi Sorry, again. Kim Jungwoo,” Jungwoo’s tone wasn’t condescending, more teasing with the corner of his lips upturned. He accepts the handshake, noting the callouses that graze against his own skin. Despite this, Mark’s hand felt warm, nevermind the soft chuckle that came after the fact. 

“Name’s Mark. You knew that already, but yeah I should’ve…yeah.”

“I should be apologizing for not reading your texts. I haven’t gotten ready for the day, so I still look like I just rolled out of bed,” Jungwoo’s honesty is a mystery even to himself, but it was only reasonable to explain why he was reluctant in inviting him in.

Mark laughs again, the twinkle in his eye suggesting he wasn’t at all fazed by the excuse. “Happens to me all the time. Usually I’m not up this early either on a Saturday, so I get it.” 

“Great,” Jungwoo gulps. “Well, I— I don’t want to talk with you while looking like this, so give me a few minutes?”

“Sure, I’ll wait out here.” 

“No, you can come in.”

Mark tilts his head, confused. “But I thought you didn’t want me to see you in your… uh, undergarments?”

“What? I’m wearing house clothes! I don’t sleep in just my boxers.” Jungwoo glares at Mark but then he bounces the accusation back, “Are you saying you sleep in just your boxers?”

“N.. not always, sometimes I get too tired and just don’t bother, I guess?” Mark surmises. “B..but if that does bother you, I’ll remember to put on clothes if I go outside my room late at night, I swear.”

Mark resolved his problem as quickly he confessed to it, and Jungwoo couldn’t help but snicker. He opens the door all the way, allowing Mark to finally step into his place. 

“Thank you, Jungwoo-ssi.” Mark slips out of his sneakers and sets them to the side. Jungwoo points towards the spare house slippers which Mark accepts promptly. 

“Make yourself comfortable. I’d offer coffee but like I said, just woke up.” He walks towards his room to gather his necessities. Mark sits down on the couch as Jungwoo makes it a point to quickly do his skincare routine, ruffle his hair up a bit in the mirror, and slip into a freshly washed shirt. 

He comes back in record time and sees Mark right where he left him. Everything in the living room seems to still be in order, not like there was much to take from his souvenir displays gifted by friends and mini collection of outdated PS4 games he had yet to sell. 

“You play?” 

“A little bit. Had to sell the PS4 to make my deposit, unfortunately.” 

“That sucks, but it’s a good thing I own one. I can put it up here if that’s okay with you,” Mark beams. “I also have a couple of games I feel you’d like.” 

“Why would you think that?” 

“Oh, just uh.. judging by the ones you have on the shelf?” Mark scratches the back of his head. “I didn’t mean to impose.”

“I’m kidding, Mark. Relax a bit,” Jungwoo tells him going up to the fridge. “Water?”

“Please, thank you.” 

It was a peculiar sight to see the person behind the doorbell fiasco moments ago to the one who was sitting stiffly on Jungwoo’s couch. He wonders now if it was just his groggy state of mind that made it seem like Mark was slamming the doorbell for a high score. Mark tried not to take up as much space with his presence, and Jungwoo can sense a bit of tension in the air. 

He hands him the cold glass of water and plops himself on the lovechair adjacent to him. Mark gulps it down before Jungwoo can even take a sip.

Amused, he teases, “When you said you were out of town, was it in the Sahara desert?”

Mark shakes his head lightly, but doesn’t take offense. “Quite the opposite, actually. I was in Canada, visiting family before starting my Masters here.” 

Jungwoo wonders, “Oh? Are you an international student?” It seemed appropriate enough due to his foreign first name. Mark explains that he was born in Canada, but since his parents’ separation he and his father emigrated to South Korea which he spent most of his time growing up in.

“I go back to visit my mom and older brother during the summer. Nicer weather there too, winters can be brutal,” Mark shudders at the thought. Jungwoo had never been outside of his home country, so this interests him a bit. He’d be more than happy to entertain the idea of traveling the world like his friends, though he isn’t sure if that’s a feat he can achieve by himself. He can dream.

“How about you, Jungwoo-ssi? Have you always lived in the city?” Mark puts the plastic bag on his lap and comfortably props his side on the armrest. 

Jungwoo tells him no, “I grew up in Gimpo, just shy north of here. Graduated high school there, but managed to get a partial scholarship so I moved out with my cousin and have mostly been in the city since then.” 

“Cool. What do you do now?” 

“I work in the public health sector. Making sure people don’t get sick and stuff.” It’s the same line he’s provided the other roommate applicants. Jungwoo was kind of done going over with the formalities, much like an ice breaker no one wants to participate in. 

“Much more purposeful than mine,” Mark comments. 

Jungwoo blinks. “How do you mean?” 

“I’m studying video game production. Trying to get my name out there somewhat, small pocket app games here and there for now, nothing special.” Mark shrugs off-handedly but that wasn’t going to fly with Jungwoo. He isn’t a fan of discriminating others for what they love to do, no matter how irrelevant that may seem to the rest of the world. 

“Mark, if it weren’t for those mind numbing games on my phone that you speak of, I wouldn’t know how to survive my bus rides going back to Gimpo. I get too dizzy watching videos, so they’re not nothing special. I’m benefitting from your line of expertise,” Jungwoo presses.

“Well, thanks, that’s good to hear. I’m, uh, also benefitting from your work to keep me, uh, healthy?” 

“You’re welcome.” Jungwoo chuckles, not intending for the conversation about their careers to go this way, but he welcomes it nonetheless. 

As much as he hates to admit it, the ice breaker turns out to be a success, and they continue to share experiences from their time in university, and Mark’s anticipation for another two years of going under. 

For a moment, it doesn’t appear to be a roommate interview, more so two acquaintances soaking up as much information as they can from the other because so much time has passed since they spared a hello. 

Jungwoo proclaims to be somewhere in between an introvert and someone who manages to slip right through small talk, and into the nitty-gritty details of one’s life. It doesn’t happen with just anyone, though, as evidenced by the six people he’s let into the apartment so far. 

With Mark, Jungwoo discerns familiarity in the stories they share, as wildly different as they can be. Mark basically had to take in both parental figures in the form of his workaholic dad while maintaining a good standing relationship with his mom and brother abroad. Jungwoo can’t fathom the stress that tolls into a mental well-being of a person, much less a child. 

Yet, Mark makes it seem so easy. He mentions never holding any sort of grudge between his parents, it helped that he not once saw them fight nor treat each other miserably. It was tricky bonding with a brother who was only two years older than him, but those summers spent in Canada became some of his most treasured pieces of his identity to this day. Both of them had an interest in video games, so finding a middle ground wasn’t a problem and at one point, they even played a co-op game together for three days straight. Mark in the solace of his college dorm in Korea, and his brother in the comfort of their suburban home on the other side of the world. 

Jungwoo won’t ever trade his close-knit bond with his parents for anything, his older sister… it’s negotiable. Kidding aside, his father did frequently go on business trips far from their town so it was usually his mom and sister coddling him up to their heart’s content. He remembers eavesdropping on tense arguments during nights he can’t sleep and yearns for an embrace, which his sister delivers almost all the time. The morning afters can be a little awkward, but Jungwoo has personally witnessed how comforting words and affectionate gestures can garner the most sincere apologies and forgiveness in one’s heart. 

He resonates with Mark’s sentiments on the importance of family, even as so far leading the discussion to that of their own, future family. 

“Are you.. uh, do you have, uh…” Mark stutters. Jungwoo finds his loss of words endearing despite going on about the wonders of snowboarding and eating poutine in their backyard at midnight for five minutes straight.

He asked Mark to repeat that word for him one more time, and as he struggles to form the words himself, Mark covers a hand up but the delightful sounds coming from his lips was not overlooked. 

Mark apologized, again , but Jungwoo wasn’t upset at all— in fact, he was having a good time.

“I don’t have a significant other, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s been..hm.. six months since my last relationship, I think?” Jungwoo supplies for him. 

“Ah, I see,” Mark quips, voice small with his next question, “Was it on mutual terms or…?”

“Eh, not exactly,” Jungwoo recoils from his seat at the memory of his forgotten past. 

“Imagine throwing a congratulatory party for a recruitment in a professional basketball team only to find out he already had plans to celebrate at a fancy Italian restaurant, a reservation you never knew about or was informed of.” 

“Oof. That’s rough. How could he forget to tell you that?”

“Easy. His date was someone else.”

“Dude, no…”

“Dude,” Jungwoo imitates in English, “ yes .”

His friends worry, but Jungwoo assures them he’s not as hung up as he used to be. He liked meeting new people, forming closer friendships, but dating and falling in love were aspects of his life he wanted to preserve for someone he deems special and that he deserves as well. 

It’s crazy to think he and his ex-partner started off on the wrong foot only to end up in each other’s arms, romantically at that point. 

The relationship had a good run despite its tragic fall out, and his friends are in awe at how he was able to get out of the worst part of it unscathed. Jungwoo never missed a hang out initiated by his friends to help him heal as sometimes, he’d end up consoling them about their feelings instead.

He tries not to think too hard about it anymore, though, only remembering a slew of texts, missed calls, and a knock on his (and Kun and Ten’s) front door. Jungwoo’s overprotective roommates withheld him from speaking to the “slimy bastard” on their watch, so he thought he wouldn’t try harder anymore.

But as the night dawned on the sky, and Jungwoo decided it was a great time to walk around the block in his pajamas for some self-reflecting, his ex had fallen asleep on the steps to the apartment, holding a wilting bouquet of white tulips. 

Jungwoo broke down crying then, finally able to release so much of his pent-up frustration and anger over what he couldn’t understand. 

Was he the one that didn’t provide enough? Did he choose the wrong person to love?

The two of them talked, and argued, and reveled in the silence, and talked some more. It wasn’t fair that until the day of their inevitable break up, he still cherished fragments of Jungwoo he learned about during their time together. Jungwoo’s mom was an occasional florist, didn’t think of starting a business because to her that would ruin the fun of arranging flowers and decorating their home with a meaning only special to them. 

He knew why it wasn’t a big show of red roses nor mixed blooms. Jungwoo heard him apologize over the sobs, but the white tulips although drooping in its form was enough to put an end to their chapter. He watched him walk away empty-handed that night, but hoping for a heart that knows he can be forgiven with time.

Jungwoo remembers attempting to nurse the tulips back to good shape, but its faltering sense of life as he watered and snipped its stems served a reminder of what can’t be revived to its original state. 

To this day, Jungwoo chooses to believe it was just about a past lover, a small but significant part of who he is now. Not the whole of himself. 

“If..uh.. it makes you feel any better, I..um.. also don’t have a significant other. Never had,” Mark pulls him out of memory lane and back to looking at his sympathetic poise. 

“Okay, maybe that isnt the right thing to say since I wouldn’t know what a break up feels like. I’m s—”

“So happy that you haven’t yet, Mark. Don’t finish that sentence, I don’t wanna hear it,” Jungwoo teases lightly, pressing a hand onto Mark’s arm. “Try not to say sorry too much next time, you’re fine. You sound like my ex.” 

Mark’s eyes passes quickly at the comforting touch and back to Jungwoo. “He better have apologized. If I were there, though— as a friend— respectfully, I’d have knocked more sense into that dude. If you get my drift.” 

“We had mutual friends who cut contact with him after finding it out which I appreciate. It didn’t seem like it affected him as much since he had to move to the States to train, anyway.” 

“I wonder if they’re still together.. I mean, they must have known about you sooner, right?”

Jungwoo shrugs. “Last time I scrolled through Instagram, it suggested me one of his recent post and it was in a basketball court, I believe? Guy was hugging him around the waist so tight I thought there was a little blue hue in his cheeks.”

“Dude! You didn’t block him?”

“I thought I did, must have unblocked during a moment of weakness until I saw the post.”

“You’re…” Mark hesitates. “You didn’t say anything you regret, though, right?” 

“Don’t worry, I was drunk and with friends then. They immediately knew what was up and confiscated my phone for the night. Never looked back,” Jungwoo reassures him— which was indeed true. He confidently vows there is not one sliver of bitterness scraping his bones. A good month in the care of his childhood home, relishing in his mom’s infamous grilled fish cuisine, and forgiveness sought him out like a safety float to shore. 

“Got good friends, then. Happy for you, Jungwoo-ssi.”

“Jungwoo is fine. Don’t you think we’re past that point after you’ve unearthed one of the most traumatic events of my life, Mark Lee?”

“S..sounds fair.” 

“In that case, tell me. Even if you haven’t been in a committed relationship yourself, surely there’s been someone in your life who you regarded differently than others, Mark?”

The plastic bag scrunches in his grasp, the question still right up in the air. Jungwoo decides maybe that was the height of their oversharing for now, so he redirects the attention to the unassuming object inside the bag. 

“Actually, what do you have in there that you’ve been keeping to yourself?”

“Oh, this?” Mark appears thankful for the conversational swerve, and carefully takes out a small velvet box wrapped up in a pink ribbon. 

“It’s for you,” he adds. 

“Me?” Jungwoo inspects the gift closely, but doesn’t identify the name embossed on the surface.

“I don’t exactly know if you like sweets, but you’ve posted some photos on Facebook with pastries and delicacies before, and I figured since I’m intruding in your home I might as well give something back,” Mark unravels the lace and reveals a six-piece set of various bakery treats smelling of sugar and honey in the air. 

“Is this from Canada?” Jungwoo’s stomach grumbles, eyes peering at the colorful array of desserts with excitement. 

Mark nods enthusiastically, descending into another story about how it’s from a bakery he and his brother go to a lot especially in the mornings, when the bread is freshly taken out of the oven and the cupcakes were still being frosted in plain sight. 

“Some of it is a little squished because of the way I placed it in my suitcase, but the flavor should still be intact. I picked a few of mine and hyung’s favorites, but also ones that looked familiar from your posts.”

“Mark Lee, are you really here to be my roommate or reveal yourself as my stalker?”

“Wh.. hey, your posts were public! And isn’t it at least a precautionary measure to take if I was interested in rooming with a stranger? You could have looked through my profile, I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Touche, Mark,” Jungwoo resigns. It was a bit too late to let him know he didn’t think of doing that in advance, assuming face-to-face interactions would do the trick. 

Mark names each sweet delicacy in the box, and asks Jungwoo every time if he’s had something of the sort before. Jungwoo recognizes one of the items and reaches for it first. 

“I love egg tarts,” he says, taking in the scent of egg and custard he knows so well. “My sister bakes, and she bakes a lot of these.”

“Really? Oh, I don’t think any place can compare to baked goods made at home with love, but you should try it.”

Jungwoo take the last piece of egg tart from the box and offers it to Mark. “You too.”

“It’s okay, dude, it’s all for you!”

“Eat. The. Tart. Mark.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

They take their first bite, and Jungwoo is just grateful to have something in his stomach at this hour. The pastry was lukewarm, a little soft on the crust but that can’t be helped from the flight it endured coming here. The filling was as expected, a hint of sweetness from the milk pouring on his tastebuds. 

“Good, right?”

“Better than my sister’s, but don’t tell her that,” Jungwoo confessed with a flake of pastry on the side of his lips. 

“Aye aye,” Mark concedes, enjoying his own piece. 

They eat the egg tarts in comfortable silence and as Jungwoo debates on trying another one that looked like chocolate bliss, Mark reveals, “I do have someone, well, had someone before.”

“Hm?”

“That you described, there was someone I had feelings for, but I wouldn’t call it love or anything like that. Just, I looked forward to seeing him any chance I can get, even if I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth,” Mark states. He dusts off the flakes onto his pants and slouches back on the couch. 

“Sounds to me Marky had a little crush,” Jungwoo sing-songs. 

Cringing at the word, Mark says, “It sounds childish when you put it that way, but ultimately it’s true. I had a crush on the owner’s son of the bakery.” 

“Had? How long ago is this, like when you visited just recently?” 

“No,” Mark corrects him, “I mean. I’ve known him since I’ve been going back as a kid, but we didn’t talk when I’d come back to Korea. You know what I said about hyung and me waking up really early just to be first in line for bread? Half-truth, my brother is not a morning person. I just didn’t want to be there alone looking for him.”

A surge of warmth rushes in Jungwoo’s chest at the cute story. Mark’s face starts to blush from the confession, head looking down on an interesting spot on the wooden tiles. 

He recalls the mornings he’d set up multiple alarms just so he can brush his teeth and use mouthwash, comb his hair in the right angles according to some Youtube videos, and bribe his brother long enough he’d give in, for a price. Mark would spend half of his allowance buying as much donuts and croissants his brother wanted just for a few minutes of watching his crush manning the prep line. 

If he was lucky, he was able to exchange a short wave of his nervous hand and an abrupt, “Thank you, have a good day!” before exiting the store with the biggest smile on his face.

“You never hung out outside of his shift? Got his Facebook profile, Instagram, anything? You seem to have some good sleuthing skills not to pull that off,” Jungwoo suggests.

Mark heaves a sigh. “I did! I mean, about asking for his socials. I was so ready to talk myself up, you know? Been practicing how to send him a discreet message about going to the local arcade or if he liked to link up on League, but one look at his Instagram and I knew I had no chance, never did.”

“He has a girlfriend?”

“Even worse, a boyfriend. Of, what, three years? And keep in mind at this point I was like, seventeen, just graduated high school and ready to spend three months of freedom in the country of maple leaves and giant moose.”

“Three years too late. Should’ve worked up a chance before then.”

“Yeah, well— it was silly, and futile from the start. Hypothetically speaking, if we did end up..uh.. dating, it would have been super long distance and I don’t want to burden someone with that much dedication or persistence to stay together, even.” 

Jungwoo mulls it over, understanding the context of committing to a relationship with timezone differences to match and at that age of Mark’s life. Personally, he didn’t think of distance as an ultimatum, heck he knew what was in store for him when his ex accepted that spot in the basketball team. He believed he was ready for that next step, that they were ready. 

“That was years ago, though, and I’ve gotten over it, obviously. I’ve had other crushes in college that never progressed to anything more. I just remembered since you asked, and because I actually saw him and the same boyfriend at the counter when I ordered these.”

“W..ow. They’re basically a married couple already.”

“Was bickering like one too,” Mark chides. “Dodged a bullet there, you think?”

“Perhaps,” Jungwoo agrees, enclosing the box to keep the freshness of the goods. “Thank you for these, really. I wasn’t expecting you to come over bearing gifts. I wasn’t expecting you to come over today at all.” 

“Plus points for me, then?” Mark proposes heartily as Jungwoo chuckles. It’s definitely a first. 

“There isn’t anyone you’re competing against, so consider yourself safe.” 

“Wait, for real? No one responded to your ad?” 

“Rude. I didn’t accept the people who did. Judging a book by its cover isn’t necessarily a quote I live by, but when you meet a person for the first time and they only give you a playful shove as a greeting and parades himself straight to your fridge for a beer, then…”

“Definitely a book I would have passed on, give it no stars out of five.” 

“See? You get me, Mark.” 

“But um,” Mark fiddles with his hands, “Does that mean…?”

Jungwoo gives him an inquisitive look, a hand to his chin and assesses Mark from head to toe. He makes a mental list of the few facts he’s shared that align with his requirements. 

Male, check. Good family background, check. Gets a stipend from his on-going degree plus works part-time to keep himself afloat, check. Doesn’t smell of alcohol, didn’t make a mess out of eating a flaky pastry, and provided a nice gesture in the form of a gift and meaningful conversations? Check, check, check. 

It’s eerily dumbfounding how Mark bested all of the previous contenders when Jungwoo wasn’t anticipating anything short of a miracle from his search for a roommate. He subtly pinches the skin along his jaw, thinking if reality was playing him like a fool as he finds himself waking up in a drooling mess on the bedsheets from a dream too good to be true. 

Nope. Mark is real, and present in the expanse of his living room. Waiting for an answer. 

“Let me know if you’re done judging me like a book by its cover, Jungwoo. I’ll be here,” he taunts unexpectedly. 

He feigns innocence, clutching the fabric on his shirt and says, “I was not! Although the cover, I must say, seems like something I’d be interested in going into the book further than the table of contents.” 

“I’d like to say you got a hefty summary for the first half, not gonna lie,” Mark claims openly, carding his fingers through tousled brown hair. He continues on.

“Can I.. say the same for you?” 

“You’re getting there. Just need to read the footnotes,” Jungwoo tells him. Mark doesn’t catch on, so he explains, “I know it seems like I should have the final say here, the lease is technically under my name and all.”

“Uh huh.”

“And so far, I think we get along well enough to live under the same roof, or ceiling for that matter. I want to ask you if you feel the same. Maybe there’s something we’re not telling each other that might be an immediate red flag down the road.”

“Haven’t we covered that part already, way before you invited me in? The boxers thing,” Mark reminds him. 

“Oh, that. That’s nothing, I was just messing with you.”

“What?” 

“Sleeping in just my boxers is probably the most comfortable, freeing feeling yet. Don’t you agree?”

Mark, astounded by the betrayal, splutters out, “Y..yeah, I mean, that’s what I said but you looked so disgusted when I said that!”

“It’s called a joke, Mark. Keep up.” 

“Alright, fine. It’ll take me a while, but I’ll get there,” Mark admits. He hums in thought as Jungwoo patiently watches. 

Knowing they’re only a year apart, Jungwoo wonders if him and Mark would have crossed paths back in college and became friends. 

They studied two different majors, probably hung out with a different set of friends and indulged in contrasting clubs and interests back then. But that wouldn’t stop Jungwoo from finding an friend in someone as nice and laidback as Mark. 

Jungwoo noticed he didn’t dramaticize his reaction towards the break up, only saying the right words that didn’t pity his decision to let the issue go but actually support him for looking at the bigger picture (apart from the hypothetical punch to his ex’s face which Jungwoo would have wanted to see). 

Jungwoo briefly went over the significance of the tulips and his mom’s hobby, but Mark was able to slip a question or two about Jungwoo’s personal favorite flower and if he ever arranged one to give to his mom in return. Mark paid attention to the littlest details of Jungwoo’s stories, became aware of his own long drawn-out musings about Canadian bacon and how it’s superior to other types, no offense to him, but never shied away from being open and interested in what they both had to share from the wide spectrum of topics they covered. 

Jungwoo likes to think parts of his friends’ personalities differed from his own, but that was what made the connection unique. Nowadays, he rarely gets to connect with them longer than a short catch up of recent events, but Jungwoo is still grateful of the willingness to keep in touch.

With Mark, he feels like they can talk about everything and anything all at once without checking the time on their phones, and it’d still feel like there’s so much more to say and learn about each other. And no amount of minutes or hours can tear that away from them.

“I thought of something,” Mark relays.

“Spill, spill.”

“So, uh, I guess it’s more of a request from you if you don’t mind?” The word “request” sends a chill down Jungwoo’s spine, praying that it wasn’t going to be accommodating a large enclosure for a reptile he’s only seen in documentaries that does not belong in a human habitat like his apartment. 

“I, uh, sometimes like to relieve some stress mostly at night and it involves, uh, some sounds.” 

“Excuse me?” Or way worse than Jungwoo imagined. 

“Nothing like that, jeez, dude!” Mark clarifies immediately. “Sounds from an instrument, a guitar.”

“Way to go for the suspense there, dude .”

“Yo, I’m just learning the ropes from the master himself with his jokes .”

“I’ll give you a pass because that rhymed and it was cool to hear. Okay, continue.”

“Funny you say that,” Mark breathes out, wringing his hands. “I play guitar and sing a bit. Just as a hobby, though, nothing good or spectacular, if I’m being honest. But I—”

“You’re doing it again,” Jungwoo interrupts him with a tsk.

“Doing what?”

“Downplaying yourself. I don’t even play any kind of instrument unless—”

“Mayonnaise is not an instrument, Jungwoo,” Mark finishes for him with a roll of his eyes. 

“Good to know,” Jungwoo says with a dimpled smile. He was catching on quick with his wits.

“But yeah, it helps pull back my focus from studying and stuff. Also gives me a break from straining my eyes too much on the computer since I do a lot of my work on there. In my old dorm, I couldn’t really play as much as I wanted to because my roommates always had guests over until evening, and by then everyone would be asleep and I didn’t want to wake people up.” 

“You’re asking me permission if you can strum a guitar and sing inside the apartment?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Mark,” Jungwoo starts. “You’re silly, and cute. I’d love to hear you play. Do you just play other people’s songs or make your own?”

“A.. bit of both. No one’s ever heard my own lyrics yet. Wait, did you just call me cute?”

“Then consider me your first fan,” Jungwoo winks. “And what’s wrong about a fan fanboying about his idol?” 

“You called me cute before calling yourself a fan,” Mark points out. Jungwoo can’t get out of this one so easily. 

“I did.. did that make you uncomfortable?” Jungwoo treads slowly, possibly stepping back a couple before he breaks his footing. It was an honest compliment, one that came out without much thought on his end. 

“No, no! Of course not,” he remarks back, and in Jungwoo’s mind that seems like a good sign, right?

“I just thought things like that were off limits to roommates. Future roommates.” Mark, if he wasn’t stumbling in his words getting embarrassed telling the tale of his first crush, is very polite and charming in his own ways. 

The flustered pink of his cheeks mirrored Jungwoo’s own face, but something in his chest was stirring different pots of colors that paint something much more indistinguishable all over his whole system. 

He doesn’t know what it feels like just yet— but Jungwoo thinks it’s starting to look like something beautiful. 

Mark moved in a few days after, and Jungwoo’s idea of assistance is to unbox the one where his guitar was safely put in place. They weren’t able to get much of the unpacking of his clothes and computer that night. Instead, Mark flipped open a random page from his lyric journal, and played for Jungwoo in their shared living room space. 

It didn’t take long for Jungwoo to hum along the poetic ensemble of English words, noting to ask Mark about the meaning of some them so he remembers how to accurately describe this feeling next to him, every night spent playing the guitar as their laughter and more stories of life hover above the melodies. 

Doyoung, after that brunch session, decided he didn’t necessarily need to ask Jungwoo to come out of his shell once in a while if he had to settle for a roommate he can’t find a real connection to. Just someone to pay his half of the bills, and that’s where he draws the line.

After hearing about this Mark Lee guy, Doyoung can already tell Jungwoo has found himself someone to walk through another chapter of his life without so much erasing unwanted experiences or trying to skip to the end.

He knows they’ll ride it out together.