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Today had been pretty standard for the most part, Jaemin went to his classes and focused on graduating with at least a portion of his sanity until his duties called for him. Club work was always pulling him to one side, his job search for something substantial once the academic year is over tugging him in the other. Not even mentioning the excessive coursework weighing him down.
Jaemin was successful in getting a significant amount partially completed before hitting a roadblock. Hours passed in that dingy last-minute library study room he reserved for himself despite how early in the day he had taken root there, considering his final class of the day ended while it was still morning. Late morning, but still, in college, beggars can’t be choosers.
—
It was only after Jaemin watched the clock hit 5:30 in the evening with barely acceptable additions to his assignments and tasks, he gave up. He called Mark and gotten the okay to drop by his apartment to unwind (exist with each other).
Jaemin considers himself decently put together. He’s personable and social enough, even if some would say he overextends his social battery. Is he kind of hard on himself? Maybe just a bit. (Though Mark would argue that Jaemin is more than just a bit.) Nonetheless, Jaemin has to be hard on himself, he has to keep his composure considering his workload.
Jaemin is just… overwhelmed right now. That’s the excuse he’s giving himself.
It’s not often he lets himself fall apart, is the point he’s trying to get across, but here? In Mark’s apartment and wrapped in promises that they’ll always be important to each other the way they are now? Jaemin knows that Mark will always be his safe spot. Not just a place to hide from the world but also a place for them to be themselves, outside of the socialized personas they play for everyone else in their lives.
He knows Mark doesn’t expect him to be at 100% all the time, and he thinks that Mark knows that Jaemin would listen to every concern of his. At least, Jaemin hopes Mark knows that. He’s never been great at reassurance or advice, but Mark hangs onto some of his words like they’re poetry, like they’re scripture.
It makes Jaemin feel wanted for more than the perfection he aims to project to the world. He doesn’t have to be some social butterfly with every answer to the universe’s questions for Mark. He can fumble his words and ramble and say things that don’t make sense, and the older would still appreciate the effort Jaemin puts in as if he were a poet, careful and deliberate, instead of the rambling mess he actually is.
Jaemin hopes that, despite his excessive drive to interact with anyone on the planet, Mark knows that his personal safe space is where they are now, Mark’s room, his own little corner of the world tucked away from prying eyes, aside from his and now Jaemin’s.
Jaemin lounges on Mark’s bed like it’s his own, his chin tucked into the collar of his hoodie as he mindlessly scrolls through his countless feeds, then scans around the apartment as if anything had changed since his last visit a few days ago.
He spares Mark a glance, watching him game at his desk with his headset over his head. Jaemin takes notice of how only one side of his headset fully covers his ears, the other half is slightly askew, not fully blocking him off from Jaemin, a habit of his he developed after their first hangouts because of how sulky Jaemin gets without responses to his random tangents.
“Mark,” Jaemin drawls, feigning boredom as he goes, “You almost done with your match yet?”
His head lolls off in Mark’s direction, eyebrows perked up as he gauges the older’s reaction. Mark, ever attentive to his guest, turns his head to meet Jaemin’s gaze. His eyes are apologetic, annoyingly so, considering he hasn’t done anything wrong. Jaemin is just clingy, and both of them know this.
“It should be done soon, I promise,” Mark reassures him. He always does, even when Jaemin doesn’t think he needs it. Yet, he always listens and believes him, so he waits.
—
Jaemin waits eagerly for the match to finish, the promise of affection drawing closer to fruition every tick of the countdown clock. His arms are open as he half-dangles his upper torso off the bed. Before he knows it, Mark is removing his headset and clicking out of the game Jaemin never bothered to learn the name of but always enjoyed watching him play. Mark clicks around this PC some more, though Jaemin’s not really focused on what he’s doing but how he does it.
He always enjoys watching Mark exist in his own space, never needing the constant stream of entertaining words from him like others in his life. Just existing in each other’s presence always being enough.
Mark would always joke about how Jaemin was like his anchor, tethering him to the ground when his responsibilities threaten to take him too far, down to places he’d rather not go to. Jaemin says he’s joking but there’s always too much fondness in Mark’s voice for it to not be a genuine sentiment despite his laughing.
The younger is fully aware how much they mean to each other, knows that Mark has the same balancing presence that soothes Jaemin’s constant need to be enough, to be liked, to be remembered by those who aren’t actually that important to his life in the long run.
Their friendship is delicate, yet intimate. Jaemin thinks that no one knows him better than Mark does, he hopes that Mark feels similarly.
Eventually, Mark moves and breaks Jaemin from his daze. Before he knows it, Mark is dropping all of his weight across the expanse of Jaemin’s draped body, flopping on top of him like his bones had turned liquid. He feels his cheeks go hot, but doesn’t push Mark off, he never does. Wouldn’t even dream of it.
Despite Jaemin’s tendency to fluster around Mark, he pulls himself together.
“Mark, baby,” Jaemin coos, his voice dripping with sweetness meant to tease a blush onto Mark’s cheeks. Jaemin readjusts his form in the bed, trying to achieve better comfort for the both of them, albeit Mark isn’t as cooperative with him. The older groans and complains with every shift of their bodies that Jaemin makes.
Eventually after some coercion and the promise of some kisses from Jaemin, they finally get properly comfortable. Mark’s head is tucked into the space between his neck and shoulder, half on top of Jaemin’s torso with his leg curled over the younger’s front. There’s some movie score playing in the background that Jaemin recognizes vaguely but isn’t entirely sure of the name. Knowing Mark, it’s probably one of the Spider-Man movies.
Jaemin feels small, feather-like kisses on his neck and immediately he knows Mark is trying to get his attention back on him instead of his own mental world that Mark knows of, but scientifically cannot get full access to.
Still, Jaemin thanks the slow progress of science for that. If it was possible, he knows his brain would just be filled to the brim with Mark Lee.
Mark from when Jaemin had met him just a few years ago, capable and strong and completely impressive for someone just a year above him. The Mark that shines in front of others, always knowing how to keep people interested, always the subject of someone’s admiration, including Jaemin’s. But especially this Mark, the one only Jaemin has gotten to see the full depth of. Filled with uncertainty, and the need to impress others but still recovering from all those years he spent overworking himself for a college degree, for a career that he enjoys yet still drains him.
Jaemin knows Mark would preen and get smug if he heard all the positive things surrounding him in his head. His best friend, his bonded soul, his support. Jaemin knows there’s more feelings there that he isn’t ready to put a name on yet, so he keeps them to himself. The warmth of having someone always in his corner, knowing that the safety of Mark’s arms and his stable heartbeat will always be available to him is enough for him right now.
Jaemin just… doesn’t want to test how sturdy that availability is yet.
He rubs his free hand over his face in an attempt to get out of his head and turns his attention back to Mark, the one staring at him quizzically, not all the versions of him in Jaemin’s head.
“You okay?”
“All good,” Jaemin responds with a smile on his lips, “I promise.”
He turns to Mark, kissing at his cheeks, his forehead, any inch of skin on his face besides his lips. Too personal, too intimate, Jaemin reminds himself every time he catches a glimpse of them. Logically, he knows Mark wouldn’t mind. They’ve kissed before, but that was before they settled into this odd routine of theirs. Like Jaemin said to himself earlier, they’re delicate. There needs to be balance.
Mark cups Jaemin’s cheeks with his palms, his hands are warm as usual. To Jaemin though, they’re sweltering. He can’t help the bob of his Adam’s apple when Mark holds him. He’s holding Jaemin’s head away from him, but close enough to look into his eyes to inspect him. The younger is doing the best he can to keep his expression neutral, not because he thinks Mark would judge him.
Mark is kind, nonjudgemental (at least to Jaemin), and respectful. He’s a kind of wise that doesn’t make sense when you first look at him. You’d have to dig to find it, underneath all the sex jokes and the boisterous laughs that could fill up an entire room with how loud they are. If you really look at and ponder Mark’s advice, Jaemin thinks, there’s a kind of wisdom there that even Mark himself doesn’t realize he has.
The older makes a face at him, his brows furrowed in a way that radiates suspicion. Jaemin breaks eye contact and Mark makes an understanding hum. He knows what’s running through his head, and he knows not to pry.
Bottom line is, he’s not scared of Mark hating him or losing him. He knows nothing would change their bond. Jaemin just isn’t ready, and he doubts Mark is either. So he waits.
Maybe one day, they’ll take a look at the full picture of their feelings. Maybe it won’t be soon, maybe it won’t happen at all. Jaemin won’t think too much about the future. He already knows that Mark does that so much regarding everything else in his life, so he won’t push.
He’ll live in the moment, the warmth of Mark’s hold, and the safe space they’ve built around each other. He doesn’t want or need commitment when their bond is already something so special to him, even if they say they’re just friends.
He’ll let them stay the way they are, warm and wrapped around in Mark’s small apartment a few subway stops away from campus. Friends who harbor a fondness they don’t want to acknowledge the full extent of just yet. Mark and Jaemin already know it’s there though.
And for now, that’s more than enough.