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Jackson was a flirt, Mark knew that, and it was alright. He knew the younger boy was by his nature kind and polite and wonderful towards everyone he met, dealing out compliments as easy as that. Mark also knew very well that Jackson was a touchy person with one and all, and the closer you were to Jackson, the more touchy he would become. Mark was one of Jackson’s best friends, so he knew very well that this low-key flirty, nice behaviour was nothing special, it was how Jackson behaved towards everyone.
Mark had learned to deal with all of that, taking all of Jackson’s flirting and touching in a stride like he had not been in love with the other boy for months upon months.
The problem was not Jackson slinging his arm around Mark’s shoulders or waist, or the way he would sometimes slap him on the butt, or the way Jackson would take care to always remember to take Mark into account, bringing him forward whenever his quietness would have left him in the background. It was not even the way Jackson complimented him often on his looks or called him cute. Nope. The problem was the way Jackson looked at Mark sometimes, a playful look on his face, eyes smiling in two happy crescents, and the younger boy would bite on his bottom lip like he were feeling bashful. It was a problem because without fail, Mark’s attention would be drawn to the way Jackson’s teeth would slightly sink into his full peachy bottom lip, and Mark’s train of thoughts would only spiral downwards into danger zone from there.
Because although Mark was very good at keeping his unrequited crush pushed down to the back of his mind, not getting into the way of his daily interactions with Jackson or keeping him up too much at night, in those moments when Jackson would look at him like that, Mark wanted to kiss Jackson so badly it hurt. Mark yearned to suck Jackson’s bottom lip into his mouth and bite on it gently, feel how his teeth would press against the plump flesh and find out if Jackson was as loud when he experienced pleasure as he was always in all other situations. Mark longed to have that tongue that Jackson liked to show so much sliding against his, pressing into his mouth and tasting all of him as he would taste all of Jackson. Mark wanted everything he could not have, so whenever Jackson would give him that look, Mark would find an excuse to divert his attention elsewhere, not able to take the torture of having to go through that tidal wave of unwanted desire and yearning over and over again.
It was the same this time. Jackson had asked him to go out to eat again - which was normal, what friends did, so it was definitely not a date - and they had been joking around a bit as they walked, like usual, and it was fine. But when their laughter had calmed down a bit, Jackson had taken on that look again, those beautiful brown eyes sparkling at Mark and those luscious lips first spreading into a wide, toothy smile before it had toned down, and Jackson had sucked his bottom lip into his mouth a bit so he could bite on it. Mark swallowed, his treacherous eyes quickly noting the couple of pearly whites he could see pressing into the glossy bottom lip, before Mark had the sense to avert his eyes before he would be completely lost.
Mark struggled to clear his throat as he picked a new, neutral and frankly kind of dull topic of conversation, not typically one for small talk but knowing it was the easiest way to distract Jackson, and what Mark needed to move on from the thoughts about Jackson’s lips that were on cue haunting him, sending images about Jackson biting his lip like that when he would push Mark down on a mattress, a more sultry look in Jackson’s eyes in that image, looking at Mark like he could eat him up. Yup. Those kind of images. Mark did not need those kind of images in his head, not when he had to be a good friend and not hope for something unattainable.
Mark noticed immediately that something was off when Jackson did not join into the conversation, and seemed to fall a bit behind from Mark’s walking pace, which both were more than a bit unusual occurrences.
When Mark turned to look over his shoulder to check on Jackson, the younger boy was pouting , his plump lips pursed, eyes accusing as he glared at Mark. Mark was perplexed, not knowing if he had offended Jackson with his conversion topic of choice - the footwear one of their backup dancers had been wearing that day - but knowing very well that they could not stop and should not slow down. Although it was very late, they could still be spotted by fans, and really should be on their way unless they wanted to be stalked the rest of the evening, so Mark had to rush Jackson on. “What? Come on, let’s go.”
Jackson easily caught up to Mark again, but the pout was still not off of his face, so they continued walking in a now uncomfortable silence all the way to the restaurant. Mark did not know what was going on, and he definitely had no idea what to say to make it right, so he stayed silent.
They arrived at the Korean barbecue restaurant, Jackson taking the lead like was usual, verifying their reservation and leading the way to the private booth. As they settled down to look at the menus, Mark opened his mouth to try at a different conversation topic, but Jackson lifted the menu up so that it covered his face, and Mark snapped his mouth shut. He knew it was no use trying to placate Jackson when the younger boy decided to be childish and sulk. It was just that the sulking was not often directed towards Mark, and the other times Mark had at least known what his supposed transgression was, but now he did not, which made him feel lost.
Knowing Jackson and his very lacking ability in staying silent, it was no surprise to Mark that the younger boy would break his self imposed silence first, slamming the menu down to glare at Mark over the table. “What’s your problem?!”
Mark blinked, only more bewildered at Jackson’s outburst. “Shouldn’t that be my question?”
Jackson only pushed his bottom lip more forward defiantly and that combined with how his cheeks had a bit of a red hue made Jackson really appear like a little kid having a tantrum. Even that image was not enough to drive away the slight tug in Mark’s chest that told him he wanted to press a soft kiss to calm those pouting lips.
“No, you’re the one who keeps looking away and changing the topic.”
Oh. Okay. Mark could navigate that. So Jackson felt neglected, and thought Mark was not giving him enough attention. It was fine, this was just like Jackson. Mark smiled at Jackson apologetically. “Ah, sorry, I was a bit distracted. What did you want to talk about?”
Apparently this was not enough to appease Jackson, since the younger boy was now standing up and moving to sit on Mark’s side of the table, shifting to sit close, a determined look in Jackson’s eyes, his lips pressed into a tight line now. “I like you. Why are you constantly dismissing me?”
Mark could hear the alarm bells going on in his head, the warning of a ship sinking, loud sounds meant to wake everyone up and scramble for safety. Jackson’s words… Mark needed to take them in a stride. This was just Jackson being a child, wanting attention and approval, whining about Mark being too quiet or ignoring him too much like he often did. This was not Jackson confessing to him, although it sounded a bit like that, because Jackson did not see Mark in that way. Mark needed to stay calm, not blush, and spread an easy smile on his face that would not communicate the turmoil going on inside his chest.
With what was only months of training to ignore the gnawing of longing in his heart, Mark managed to retain control of his face and lean a bit back from Jackson, raising his eyebrows a bit as he smiled at the other helplessly, managing even a chuckle, like he were amused by Jackson’s antics. He was not. He was kind of terrified with how close Jackson’s lips were, and how much he wanted to lean closer to run his own on their glossy surface. “I’m not dismissing you, Jackson.”
Okay, now Jackson was grabbing Mark’s head, shaking him a bit back and forward, and the alarm bells were so loud Mark could barely hear Jackson talk. “Yes you are! You just did it again! Stop that!”
“W-What…”
Mark’s voice broke, a sign that he had spoken too soon and that he had not thought his words through, trailing off as he did not know how to continue. He knew he was losing control of his face, his brows furrowing a little and he knew his eyes were showing that he was helplessly confused now, not knowing what Jackson was talking about at all. He was not dismissing Jackson, his attention was always on Jackson, glancing on the younger boy constantly, trying to time it so that Jackson would not see so Mark could stare in peace at the younger boy and appreciate the way his whole body was basically a piece of art, especially when Jackson danced and moved with the passion Mark knew Jackson had for GOT7. Mark had always noticed Jackson more than anyone else, it had just taken him a long time to recognize it for what it was, and after that he had tried to be more subtle about it, not wanting to ruin what they had as a group and as a pair of friends.
“I like you, Mark, don’t you get it? I keep telling you, and you keep ignoring it, and first I thought it was you just trying to let me down gently, but I’m not sure anymore, so. So if you’d like to reject me, please tell it to me straight now, and I won’t bother you about this anymore.”
The sirens in Mark’s head were overpowered by the sound of his heart beating in his ears, his brain processing what Jackson just said and trying to turn it around in his head, trying to find an angle that would explain it, that would change the meaning so that this was not Jackson confessing to him, like, actually confessing, and not just in Mark’s dreams. That those three words meant romantical like and not the hey-you’re-my-bro like Mark had always assumed when Jackson had said those words to him before.
Jackson’s eyes were burning, his face completely solemn. Mark tried to search for signs that Jackson would be pulling his leg, but Jackson had never had the best poker face and Mark had watched the younger boy so much for so long that he knew every tell, and there was no act on Jackson’s face, no pull in the corner of his mouth, and Mark realized Jackson was serious.
“You like me?” Mark’s voice was quiet and too high, almost a squeak, but he needed to stall for time and also have Jackson confirm it once more, because the stakes were too high if he were to bare his heart to Jackson and it would end up being a joke, or just as friends. Mark was scared.
Jackson sighed loud with frustration, his shoulders sagging a bit and he shook Mark’s head still a little more as if it would help communicate his point better, which it really did not. Mark did not know at which point he had raised his hands to try and stop Jackson from shaking his head so much, but his touch was too tentative on Jackson’s hand, so it had not helped much.
“YES! I like you, Mark Yi-en Tuan, now will you stop torturing me and either tell me you like me too or tell me to get out, because I can’t take this any longer.” Jackson threw his head back as he stretched out the last ‘r’ until he needed to take a breath and he tilted his face down to face Mark again, frustration obvious on his face. Mark did not know what else to do than to blink, the situation so unreal that he had no reaction for it, at all.
“I like you too?” Mark said carefully, still a little unsure and scared. These words seemed to finally appease Jackson, because he let go of Mark’s head and nodded, his lips now downturned at the corners in that firm, determined but satisfied look that puffed his cheeks adorably.
“Good. Glad we got that straight.” And with that, Jackson was standing up, moving back over to sit on his side of the table, picking up his menu again. “I’m thinking of ordering pork belly and tongue. What do you want?”
The change of subject was so abrupt Mark got whiplash. “Wait what?”
Jackson looked at him like he had just asked the stupidest question, one eyebrow raised and head tilted to the side. “I asked if you wanted pork belly and tongue or something else?”
Mark waved his hand in front of himself, trying to gather his thoughts and make some sense to this absurd situation. “Hold on. Did you just confess to me, make me confess back and then jump to talk about what part of pork to order for dinner?”
Jackson paused to looked down to the menu and back up at Mark again, seemingly not finding any flaw in his logic. “Yeah? I’m hungry.”
Mark could not help the laugh that bubbled up in his chest, Jackson’s answer confirming that Mark had not misunderstood the situation, but it all was just so weird and he could not help but laugh. Mark laughed so hard tears came to the edges of his eyes, shaking in his seat as he tried to collect himself.
When he finally could, he looked at Jackson across the table from underneath his wet eyelashes, knowing that the smile on his face was ridiculous, like this situation. “You’re impossible.”
The grin on Jackson’s face was wide and uninhibited, and when Jackson reached forward for Mark’s hand, Mark gave it to him easily, turning his palm up so Jackson could hold it on the table. “You love me.”
“Yeah.” Mark answered easily, breathing a sigh of relief to finally get it out there, and when Jackson rolled his beautiful, full bottom lip between his teeth again, Mark did not look away. “Yeah, I do.”