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The sun’s rays peeked through the small crack in the curtains; casting a soft glow on the body still trapped in slumber. To Mark, it felt anything but soft; groaning slightly, he raised the blanket to cover his face and attempted to return to another land.
A land of lavender and Junior’s cologne… Wait… What?!
As the scent of his best friend’s favourite cologne invaded his nostrils, he sprang up from the bed. A bed that did not belong to him, in a room that was definitely not his. Groaning, he brought his hands to rub the remnants of sleep from his eyes, trying to put the puzzle of last night back together. He vaguely remembered reading a text from his boyfriend…well, ex-boyfriend, and then nothing, as if his brain didn’t want the reminder of what he was feeling at the moment.
“Come on, Mark. Think,” he mumbled to himself, voice still groggy with sleep. “What happened after reading that text?”
No matter how much he racked his brain, the memories refused to come back to him. Until he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The sight that greeted him seemed to shock his brain into a frenzy as flashes of last night slowly returned.
The ominous text.
Him ending up at this apartment.
The glasses of wine.
Lying in bed, talking.
A wicked tongue tracing the contours of his skin.
Him making him see stars till he passed out from exhaustion.
His face slowly turned bright red as he buried his head in his hands.
“Fuck…”
~The Night before~
The cool air from the overhead fan gently caressed Mark’s face—a stark contrast to what he was feeling at the moment. One minute, he was in the supermarket looking for snacks to share with his partner. The next, he was clutching his phone, holding back tears as he reread the message over and over—praying what he saw wasn’t real.
“I think we should break up. I found someone else. Do not try to contact me.”
But there it was, staring back at him as though to mock him—three simple sentences. Three sentences which ended a nine-month relationship. Just. Like. That.
He stared at the phone, his body refusing to move or even react. Eventually, the screen went black, yet he couldn’t look away.
He kept staring until the screen turned blurry. He kept staring as small drops of water started to land on the screen.
The supermarket should get that checked; the dripping ceiling could damage the goods. But the water wasn’t coming from the ceiling; but rather his eyes.
Suddenly, he jerked forward, nearly toppling into the aisle. Someone muttered an annoyed apology before walking off to another section. That seemed to shock him out of his stupor. He swallowed hard, gripping his phone tighter as if the sensation could help him understand what he had just read.
“I found someone else”
The words seemed to replay in his head over and over again as if to taunt him. He needed to get out of here.
Mark turned abruptly, the basket in his hand suddenly knocking against his right rib. Right, he had come here to pick up some snacks for tomorrow. To share with him.
But tomorrow wasn’t going to be like that anymore.
“Do not try to contact me.”
Carefully—or not—he dropped the basket in the corner of the aisle and hurriedly made his way to the exit. His body moved on autopilot. He vaguely registered the guard telling him good night or something of the sort as he exited. He didn’t know if he responded; all he could focus on was getting out of there.
The automatic doors slid closed behind him as the cool night air brushed against his tear-stained cheeks. He sucked in a breath, trying to think what to do next.
It didn’t help. His thoughts were still scrambling trying to make sense of the situation. This is where he should go home and cry his eyes out into his pillow. Maybe even get drunk and badly sing his heart out to breakup songs. But he just couldn’t make his feet go in the direction of his lonely apartment. Blindly, he started to wander through the streets. Mind still numb, he didn’t realise that he had wandered to a very recognisable-looking neighbourhood.
One minute, he was walking along the lonely streets; the next, he was standing in front of a familiar door. A door that led him to a place he knew like the back of his hand. A place where both his mind and even his heart had decided was a sanctuary. Door number 315, P’ Ju’s door. Still moving on autopilot, he brought his hand up and knocked.
Before he could fully knock a second time, the door swung open. Junior stood there, wearing a tank top and some shorts. His hair was ruffled with sleep, lines etched onto his skin from the sheets. He was rubbing his eyes, looking slightly confused as he spoke.
“Mark?...”
Juniors’ POV
“Knock, Knock.”
The sound shattered the peaceful silence of the condo, rousing its owner from his slumber. Groaning to himself, Junior dragged his body from his bed and made his way to the door.
Who the hell was knocking at this hour?
Seriously–it was the middle of the goddamn night. Sure, he didn’t have work in the morning, but still. Let a man have some peace.
Finally, he reached the door and grabbed the handle. He twisted the knob and swung the door open, ready to give whoever it was a piece of his mind—
But the words died on the tip of his tongue.
His brows furrowed in confusion.
“Mark?”
“What are you doing here?”
Mark didn’t answer him; he just stood there, staring. He looked as if he, himself, was wondering what he was doing there. That was when Junior really looked at him.
The tear-stained cheeks. The red-rimmed and puffy eyes. One arm hugged his side as if it were the only thing holding him together while the other hovered in the air waiting to knock once more.
His heart ached at the sight of Mark looking so…vulnerable.
He stepped aside, without saying another word, giving Mark space to enter. Mark walked past him sluggishly, as if even walking took too much effort. He even forgot to take off his shoes. Something very un-Mark-like.
Junior shut the door behind him and gently guided him to the couch, pulling the blanket over his shoulders. He then knelt and slipped off Mark’s shoes and put them in their place, bringing the pair of house slippers he kept for him to wear instead.
Only then did he sit beside him. Close but not touching. Not yet. Not until Mark gave him permission to. He knew from experience that if someone were to touch Mark while he was zoned out, it would just startle him really badly and make it even harder to comfort him, so he waited…
They sat in silence for a minute; Mark was still spacing out, mind somewhere else entirely. Finally, Junior decided to break that silence.
“Mark…,” he asked softly, as if afraid to break the already fragile boy.
No response.
He tried again, “Mark…What happened?”
That finally elicited a reaction.
“.....” Mark whispered under his breath, still staring off into the distance.
“What? I couldn’t understand what you said, Nong,” Junior replied, voice still soft.
“He left…”
The words were still barely above a whisper, but in the quiet of the condo, it was as if he said them through a microphone.
Junior stilled, chest tightening.
“Nine months.” Mark said bitterly, “Nine months and yet he couldn’t say it to my face.” A hollow laugh followed, the sound sharp in the quiet atmosphere.
Junior shifted closer, thoughts of murdering the one who caused his Mark to be like this flooding his mind. He was so angry that he could look for the bastard and beat the hell out of him.
Not now. Now we have to comfort Mark. Later, we can kill that son of a bitch.
Slowly, Junior exhaled and locked the anger deep in his mind. The rational part of him was right. He needed to look after Mark first before doing anything.
“Hey…it’s gonna be okay–”
“And how do you know that?!”
The words came out in such a harsh tone that it caused Junior to flinch a little.
Mark’s breathing was starting to hitch, his hands shaking and curled into fists on his lap. Tears were rapidly running down his cheeks even as he tried desperately to stop them. Junior didn’t think after that.
He just reached out.
Mark’s POV
The minute he felt Junior’s hand on his back, something snapped in him.
Everything felt like too much. The blanket was wrapped too tightly but not tight enough. The crickets outside were too loud, and the gentle hum of the air conditioning was too quiet. He couldn’t take it anymore.
Without thinking, he turned and wrapped his arms around Junior, burying his face in his neck.
He felt Junior freeze beneath him for a second, caught off guard by the sudden contact. Then, Junior's arm came around him, tight and steady. As if to say, “Fall apart. I’ll help you gather the pieces later.
That was all the confirmation he needed. His grip tightened around Junior, and he just... let go.
The tears flowed freely. He wasn’t just crying anymore—he was sobbing, his breath hitching with each broken inhale.
Junior didn’t hesitate this time.
He pulled him closer, shifting until they were both comfortable, and Mark was practically in his lap, his arms still wrapped securely around him.
He didn’t scold him for soaking his top with his tears. Didn’t ask any further questions. Didn’t try to tell him it would be okay. He just held him close, letting Mark cry his broken heart out.
Eventually, one hand moved to his hair and gently started running through it, while the other rubbed small circles against his back.
Mark hated this.
He hated how broken he felt. Hated that he was just dumping all of this on his best friend. But Junior’s embrace was so warm and…right. He just couldn’t bring himself to pull away.
Eventually, his crying eased, and his breathing returned to normal. He still didn’t let go of Junior, just sat there, sniffling quietly in his arms. Junior didn’t rush him either; he just waited until he was ready to move on his own. But honestly…he didn’t want to move.
After a few more minutes, when he was finally calm enough, he pulled himself from under Junior’s chin but not from his lap. Not yet. He wanted just a few more minutes like this.
Five minutes later, Mark was finally ready to move from that comfortable lap.
“Sorry,” he muttered when he was seated back on the couch, his voice hoarse from the crying.
Junior chuckled softly, “ For what? Attempted strangulation or almost causing me to drown?”
A weak laugh escaped Mark at Junior’s nonsense. Despite everything, he was still able to make him laugh.
“Okay, it seems to me you are in desperate need of a drink and snacks,” Junior said, stretching his legs out. “The question is—do you want water or wine?”
Mark contemplated the question a little. On one hand, it was late, and he should let Junior get some more sleep, but…on the other hand, maybe some alcohol would ease his heart.
“Wine, please”, he replied softly.
A smile cracked on Junior’s face at the answer. “Thought so,” he said.
He pushed himself off the couch and headed to the kitchen, already sensing Mark would follow him. Mark was always somewhat clingy when he was upset.
Mark made himself comfortable atop the counter while Junior rummaged through his cupboards for the wine glasses. The kitchen was quiet except for some clinking of glasses being moved.
If he were with his ex, the silence would have eaten him alive with the awkwardness, but with Junior, that wasn’t the case…it was comfortable.
“Aha!” he exclaimed, pulling out two crystal wine glasses. “I think I got these from the thrift store near your place.”
“No, we got them at the thrift store near P’Book's apartment.’ Mark said, thinking back on the day. “That was the day you dragged me to his neighbourhood to bother him.”
“Oh! I remembered that.” Junior responded, eyes twinkling with mirth as he recalled the memory. “That dumbass is so easy to rile up.”
“You aren’t any better, Phi.” Mark deadpanned.
“Yeah, yeah,” Junior said, looking in his cabinet for a wine bottle. “Do you want Rosé or Red?”
“Whatever helps me forget that bastard faster.”
Junior snorted.
“So red. I’ll get us some snacks too.”
Mark hummed a response while he watched Junior rummage around his pantry looking for snacks.
Finally, he grabbed a bag of onion chips and nudged the cabinet shut with his hip. He opened the bag and placed it in a large bowl before turning around to Mark.
“So do you want to move back to the couch or do you want to stay in the kitchen?” Junior asked, already opening the wine bottle.
Mark pondered the question a little. He felt pretty comfortable on the kitchen counter, plus the time they took moving everything to the living room was time he could use to get closer to being drunk.
“Kitchen,” he replied, settling further onto the cupboard.
Junior simply hummed in response, then turned around to pour their drinks. He gave one glass to Mark and then leaned against the opposite counter, drink in hand.
He swirled the liquid around the glass, contemplating what to ask, before taking a sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.
Mark stared the entire time, first at the long fingers wrapped elegantly around the glass. Then, at that sweet, teasing mouth that could speak the right words to soothe his heart. He wondered what those lips would feel like against his skin….
Fuck.
That stupid crush he had on Junior was coming back in full force. He was supposed to be sad about his ex not thinking about how his lips feel on his skin.
BEGONE, HORNY MARK.
“–rk? MARK!”
The owner of the said lips pulled him out of his stupor.
“Huh?’ Mark said, finally meeting Junior’s gaze.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout,” Junior said, eyes twinkling with barely hidden amusement. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
Mark’s cheeks flushed pink almost instantly. He took a long sip of wine, trying to hide his embarrassment, eyes darting away.
He prayed to whatever god was out there that Junior didn’t catch him staring, or worse, suddenly develop mind-reading abilities.
“ Clearly, you weren’t paying attention, so I’ll ask again so you don’t keep wondering about what I said,” Junior said, voice shaking from holding his laughter.
So he did notice. Fuck me.
You wouldn’t mind if he did it. A traitorous part of him whispered.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Junior asked, all traces of humour vanishing.
He looked as if he wanted Mark to open up about what happened, but was also content if he didn’t.
He did do that a lot, though. Always respecting Mark’s space. The realization stirred up some old feelings.
“I keep thinking about it,” Mark admitted quietly, almost as if afraid to say it aloud.
“The breakup?” Junior asked softly.
Mark nodded, taking a breath before continuing.
“I know I shouldn’t, but…” He twirled his wine around. “Nine months, Phi.”
“Nine fucking months and I got a stupid text at 12 A.M” he said before taking another long gulp of wine.
The kitchen fell silent for a few seconds.
“That’s kinda pathetic.”
Mark let out a surprised laugh at that, thinking Junior meant him.
On cue, Junior clarified, “Not you. Him”
“Oh.”
That was all Mark could manage to let out as he refocused on Junior. The latter was taking a sip of wine from his own glass and staring right at him.
“Seriously, though,” he said, putting his glass down and leaning further onto the counter. “Which dumbass decides it’s a good idea to end a nine-month relationship with a text message?”
“Someone who found someone better, apparently,” Mark replied, looking down at his wine.
Mark stared at the red liquid resting in his glass as if it held the secrets of the universe. He vaguely registered Junior moving from his spot on the counter. Two seconds later, he saw a pair of blue slippers in front of him.
Gently, he felt Junior’s arms touch his shoulder, signaling him to look at him. But, he couldn’t find the energy–he couldn’t muster the courage to look up at the eyes he spent many nights dreaming about and find pity in them.
As if sensing Mark’s dilemma, Junior moved one of his hands from his shoulder and gently tilted his chin upward.
Mark’s breath hitched.
Staring back at him were eyes filled not with pity. There wasn’t even a slight trace of it. No, they were filled with concern. Raw and honest concern.
Junior’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You really think he found someone better?”
Mark tried to look away, but Junior's grip stayed firm, not enough to hurt; he would never hurt him.
“Didn’t he?” Mark replied, blush creeping slowly up his face.
“No.”
A single word, said so firmly, it left no room for disagreement.
Mark blinked, surprised at the quick response. He understood how friends worked. They never let you speak badly about yourself, even if it could be true at times.
But, for some reason, that response didn’t feel like something a friend would say. The words were the same, but the tone didn't quite match….
Junior seemed to come to the same conclusion. He let out a small sigh, removing his hand from Mark’s chin.
Mark missed the contact already.
Junior rubbed his neck sheepishly. “That’s not how I intended for that to come out.”
“Then how did you mean it ?”
Junior stared at him for a moment. Gears seemed to turn in his head, trying to work out how much to say.
“It’s just…” he hesitated.
“You spent those 9 months trying to compromise yourself to make him happy.”
His voice was soft, a thin layer of hurt seeping through.
“You always tried your best to make him happy, even if it meant doing something you weren’t comfortable with.”
“Did I?”
“You prefer listening to slow songs, but every time I called you, a pop song was playing in the background.”
Mark blinked. “Maybe you just called when he was playing music,” he said defensively.
Junior had that look on his face. The one that said Mark was being ridiculous
“Fine, that could be the case,” he said. Mark immediately brightened up like he had won something.
“But what about the candid photos?”
The feeling died instantly.
“What candid photos?” he asked, already knowing where this was going.
“The ones on his Instagram. Junior responded, leaning back against his counter.
“Is it not normal for your partner to post you?”
Junior shook his head.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that half of them are candid photos.”
Mark blinked, tilting his head slightly to the left. “So?”
Junior stared at him for a minute, as if trying to see if he was serious.
“Mark,” he said, voice taking that troublesome tone. The tone that never meant anything good.
“You hate when people take candid shots of you”
“I don’t…” Mark started defensively.
“You absolutely do.”
“No, I don’t”
“You got mad at me when I took one by accident.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“....” Mark opened his mouth to defend his claim. Then shut it right away. No words came out. He had no answer to defend his claim. Why would he? Junior was right. He hated candid pictures of himself. He hated people posting them even more. Yet every time Dylan posted one, he would simply smile and tell himself it was fine.
Relationships were about compromise were they not?
But looking back on their memories, he was always the one who compromised, not Dylan. Never Dylan. They always went on dates according to his preference and time; sometimes he didn’t even bother to ask if Mark was free. He had to cut down on hangouts with his friends because of him. Yet after all of that, that prick couldn’t bother to even break up with him in person. He wasn’t even mad at the breakup; people do that all the time. No, what he was mad at was the way it was done.
He stared down at his glass before draining it in one smooth swallow. The alcohol flooded through his brain, bringing that wonderful feeling with it. It wasn’t enough to get him drunk, but he planned on fixing that.
Junior’s POV
Junior stayed silent the entire time, watching Mark put the pieces together. Not once did he interrupt. He knew it would be better to let Mark see the truth on his own. If only he had seen it before this awful night.
For nine months, he had to watch his best friend do things he knew he didn’t like for an asshole who didn’t deserve him. There were countless times he wanted to march over to Dylan’s apartment and knock some sense into him. Or maybe even shake Mark by the shoulders and ask him what the hell he was doing.
But at the end of the day, he never did. After all, it wasn’t his place to do so.
He just prayed that one day, Mark would figure it out on his own. Apparently, tonight was that day. Junior watched as Mark drained the entire glass in one swallow.
Well, fuck. That was probably not a good sign. Mark usually preferred to nurse his wine and savor it like it was gold.
Now, he looked like he wanted to drink straight from the bottle. It seemed that Mark finally reached the “My ex is shitty, and now I’m gonna drink his memories away” phase in a breakup.
This is gonna be interesting.
Whoah, there. “ he said, setting his own glass down. “Maybe take your time?”
“Why?” Mark asked, looking ready to fight for the bottle if he had to.
“Because I’m not hauling your drunk ass to bed. And you can’t sleep on the kitchen counter.”
Mark narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You absolutely would.”
Junior opened his mouth to defend himself, but no words came, so instead he took a sip from his glass and looked away from Mark’s smug grin.
“See, I’m right; you would.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It kinda is,” Mark responded, smugly.
At least, he’s smiling.
Mark reached for the bottle, refilling his glass before drinking it one go again. This happened at least two more times. When he reached the third refill, Junior snatched the bottle from his hand.
“Hey!”
“Nope.”
“P'noir.” The use of the name was just shameless. In response, Junior stared back, clearly unimpressed and unfazed.
“No more wine for you, Nong Mark,” he said, “I’m trying to save you from a massive headache tomorrow.”
“You’re just being mean,” Mark replied, a pout making its way to his face, trying to get a rise out of Junior.
Junior just stared at him for a second. His brain was malfunctioning. Because Mark was pouting. And if there was one thing Dylan apparently got right, it was that Mark's pouting could stop entire wars.
“No,” Junior said, forcing his voice to sound normal. “I am being responsible.”
“Liar.”
“I’m not a liar.”
“You are too.”
Junior exhaled through his nose and looked away. The plants in his apartment suddenly seemed so interesting. Okay, those are kinda dead now, so maybe not that interesting.
But it was better than looking directly at the damn pout. If he did, he probably might find another way to “help” Mark forget about his stupid ex.
Mark leaned forward slightly, still trying to reach for the bottle even though he knew it was pointless.
“Just one more glass, please,” he tried.
“No.”
“Phiii.”
“Nong”
The warning tone didn’t land the way it was supposed to. It just made Mark try harder, his lower lip jutting out more while he tilted his head a little.
Fuck that just made him cuter.
Junior reached out and gently pushed Mark’s hand from the counter.
“You’ve had enough,” he said, voice soft.
Mark didn’t argue. He just stared; something shifted in his eyes that Junior couldn’t quite figure out.
“You’re serious?” he asked.
“Yes” There was no hesitation in that answer. Not even a trace.
Mark slowly leaned back on the counter, supporting himself on his arms, the pout still on his face.
“You’re supposed to be the fun one.” He said quietly.
Junior huffed a small laugh, still eyeing his very dead plants.
“Yeah, well,” he said, finally returning his gaze to Mark, “someone has to make sure you don’t wake up hating life tomorrow.”
A comfortable silence settled in the kitchen. No one made a move to fill it. Mark stayed where he was, seemingly lost in thought.
Junior set the bottle down, fingers lingering on the neck for a second before letting go.
Mark just watched him, not moving an inch. Which usually wouldn’t be strange, but for some reason tonight it was.
“...You okay?” Junior asked, finally breaking the silence.
Mark’s POV
Mark watched as Junior fiddled with the wine bottle. From that moment, he forgot about his need to get blackout drunk. He forgot about Dylan. He forgot about every other detail except the fact that Junior dragged himself out of bed at an ungodly hour, comforted him, fed him and was now refusing to let him get more drunk in fear of a headache tomorrow.
All without a single complaint or question. That thought made some old feelings stir. He just had to know.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” The question slipped out before he could overthink it.
Junior blinked. Clearly caught off guard by it. “What kind of question is that?”
Mark shrugged, suddenly finding his nails fascinating.
“I don’t know, I’m just curious. I mean, you could have told me to go home. So why didn’t you?” He said, voice quiet with uncertainty.
Junior snorted before realising it was a serious question.
“Mark…”
He finally looked up at the sound of his name. Staring back at him were eyes filled with so much care; it made him want to cry again.
“Why would I do that? Hmm?” his expression softened. He clearly had more to say, so Mark stayed quiet, signaling him to continue.
“You showed up at my door at 1 A.M, looking so lost.” He continued, “Did you really think I would tell you to leave?”
Mark looked away, face flushed from embarrassment and the wine. When Junior said it like that, it sounded like a stupid fear to have.
“A little,” he whispered, ears starting to turn pink.
“Well, you’re an idiot for thinking that for even a second.”
The insult lacked any real heat. Junior leaned back against the counter, folding his arms. “Besides, where else would you go?”
The answer came to Mark instantly. There was nowhere else.
His feet had simply known the truth before his mind could catch up. The realisation settled in his chest, like it was an undeniable fact.
“I dunno,” he admitted, still looking away.
Junior simply hummed before responding, “I think you do know.”
That caught Mark’s attention. He turned to look at Junior once more, head tilting slightly in confusion.
“Mark,” he started, “You always look for me when something’s wrong.”
“That's not true…,” he countered, but he didn’t have any confidence in his answer.
“How about the time when your car broke down?”
“You were closer.”
“What about the time when you were at a party and wanted to leave, so you called me in the bathroom to pick you up?”
“You were awake.”
“Okay, fine. What about the time you got so sick, you spent half the day convinced you were dying?”
“I was DYING!”
“You had a fever.”
“I literally saw the light.”
“That was the bathroom light.”
Mark couldn’t help it anymore. A chuckle bubbled out of his throat and then turned into full-on laughter. It was his first full laugh since he got to Junior’s apartment. Soon, he was clutching his stomach, as tears formed in his eyes from how hard he was laughing.
Junior just smiled, watching him while taking another sip from his wine glass.
Eventually, his laughter died down, leaving that happy feeling one gets after laughs like those. Mark took a paper towel from the roll nearby and wiped his eyes.
“Okay, fine,” he admitted, “I was being a little dramatic.”
“Only a little?”
“Don’t push it, Phi”
Junior just grinned into his glass victoriously. The kitchen fell quiet once more. But the silence felt light this time. All the hidden tension from earlier was gone.
Mark’s gaze drifted towards the one standing opposite him. Towards the guy who always managed to make him laugh no matter how sad he was. The one who was always there no matter where and when he called. He was always standing by his side, not just tonight. Whenever things were wrong, right or just in between, Junior was there.
That hit harder than any wine.
“Thank you.” The words were barely above a whisper. He thought Junior probably didn’t hear him.
But the look on his face told him instantly that he did.
“You don’t have to thank me, Nong Mark.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Junior shook his head, “No. You don’t.”
“Why not?” Mark asked, frowning a little.
Junior looked genuinely puzzled. “Because you’re supposed to look after the people you care about.”
The answer slipped out so casually that neither of them was prepared for it.
“Yeah, but friends can thank each other?”
The words hung longer in the air than they should have.
Junior froze, eyes darkening slightly at that statement, before disappearing so quickly that Mark thought he imagined it.
“Yeah, sure,” Junior said eventually. But his voice sounded off. It was quieter. More closed off.
Mark frowned. Something about that answer rubbed him the wrong way. It felt like there was another statement that followed but Junior was holding it back.
Junior cleared his throat before looking away. “So you still wanna drink your ex out of your system?”
The subject change was obvious, but Mark didn’t call him out on it.
“Nah. Someone told me I should be careful of potential headaches.”
The relief on Junior’s face was visible for a moment before it was replaced with a smug grin.
“Wow.”
“What?”
Junior wiped fake tears from his eyes as he said, “My Nong actually listened to his Phi.”
Mark rolled his eyes in response. “Don’t get used to it, if you’re gonna behave like that.”
“Too late. I’m gonna shout it from the rooftop.” Junior looked too pleased with himself. Knowing Junior, he would probably do it. Mark rolled his eyes as he took another chip from the forgotten bowl. Damn, these were good.
“You know,” he started, “Normal people would have gone back to sleep by now.”
Junior gasped dramatically, hands clutching his chest as he responded, “Are you calling me abnormal?”
“If the shoe fits.”
“It does not. I thought you knew me better than this.” He said, still clutching his chest as if someone had told him he couldn't eat steak anymore.
“I do know you. Which is why I'm saying it.”
“It doesn't.”
“Phi.”
“Fine, you win. It does.”
Mark snorted. His eyes drifted towards the microwave clock.
2:18 A.M
He blinked. “Wait.”
“Hmm? What?”
“It's two in the morning.”
Junior turned and followed his gaze. “Huh, so it is.”
“That's your response?”
“I mean, what do you want me to say?”
“I don't know. How about, ‘We should get some sleep’?”
Junior turned to face him once more. “We probably should.”
Neither of them made an effort to move.
Mark glanced back at the clock. It was a reasonable time to get to bed or at least return home. The traffic in the city would be clear, so it would probably take less than an hour to return home and sleep the rest of the day away. But…the thought of returning to a lifeless apartment made his chest tighten with something he couldn’t name.
Across from him, Junior was taking small sips of wine from his glass, his eyes never leaving him. He took another before breaking the silence that had fallen in the room.
“You know, you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” he said.
Mark blinked, confused. Did he think out loud or something?
“I wasn’t–”
“You didn’t say it out loud, but you were thinking it.”
Mark immediately shut his mouth. How?
“Your face does a thing.” Junior simply said, taking another sip of wine.
“No, it doesn’t,” Mark replied, still confused.
He knows for a fact that his face does not do a thing. How? He fought with that prick about it once. According to Dylan, he had a forever “resting bitch face.” In non-asshole terms, his face never really displayed what he was thinking most of the time.
“Yes, it does,” Junior responded, voice laced with confidence.
Mark just stared back, head tilted, confused. Junior, after studying him for a few seconds, seemed to pick up on what he was thinking again.
Sigh. “Seriously, Mark. Did that dumbass know anything about you?” He asked, setting his wine glass down.
Pushing himself off the counter, he started, “Yes, usually your face doesn’t give your thoughts away; that’s only if you don’t know what to look for.”
“And you do?”
“Of course I do.” The amount of confidence in his voice was surprising but also kinda annoying.
“Fine, Mr. Know-me-so-well, give me one example.”
“Just one?”
“Yes.”
Something seemed to shift in Junior. Or was it the air? Whatever it was, it left Mark feeling slightly suffocated under its weight. Jeez, I think I drank too much.
“You tilt your head slightly to the right when you’re confused.” Junior didn’t even need to think about it. He said it like it was a well-known fact of the universe. And to him, maybe it was…
“Everyone does that.” Mark snarked, crossing his hands over his chest.
Amusement flickered in Junior’s eyes. He took one step forward as he continued. “You cross your arms when you get defensive about something.”
Mark immediately uncrossed his arms.
“You scrunch your eyebrows slightly when something annoys you.”
Another step.
Mark quickly relaxed his face. He didn’t even realise he was doing that. A slight blush started to spread across his face from the embarrassment. He prayed Junior didn’t notice. Unfortunately for him, Junior did notice.
“Aww, you’re blushing; which could mean a few things,” he said, studying Mark closely. “This one, though, means you’re embarrassed.”
Damn it
“I’m not blushing. You’re wrong.”
“I’m right.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, it’s the wine,” Mark said stubbornly.
Junior did not look convinced.
“Yes.”
Junior just hummed in response. Then his gaze travelled to the side of Mark’s head for a moment before returning to his face.
“Then why are your ears red, Nong?” Junior asked as he took another step forward.
Mark caught his reflection in the stovetop on the other side of the kitchen. True to Junior’s words, his ears were indeed red. Instinctively, his hands shot up and covered them.
“See? I was right.”
“Shut up.”
“I won.”
“No, you didn’t”
“Yes, I did.” Another step forward.
Mark opened his mouth to argue, but the words died on his tongue. Junior had indeed noticed those small details that his ex didn’t see. Some of which, even he didn’t know he did. The realisation made his stomach twist. Just as he was about to admit defeat, he paused.
“Why are you standing so close?” he asked, head tilting.
At some point during their conversation, Junior had left his spot on the other counter and had eliminated most of the space between them. He was now close enough that Mark could smell his subtle cologne, which he liked to wear so much that it often lingered after his showers. So close, he could see the traces of laughter still in his eyes and the subtle smile lines around his mouth. Fuck
“Huh?” Junior blinked at the question. It was as if he genuinely didn’t realise he had been moving the entire time.
“You’re literally almost touching my knee.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Phi.”
Junior just smiled and took one more step, finally coming in contact with Mark’s knees that were swinging slightly off the counter.
“See? I’m touching your knee, not almost,” he replied with a grin.
This bastard.
Mark couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his best friend’s antics.
Best friend…
The words sent a bad feeling through his chest. Usually, the title didn’t bother him. He had been happy once–happy he was still a part of Junior’s life in one way. But here, with Junior standing so close, his scent invading his mind, and the wine weakening his walls, he built so carefully over the years, a wish slipped out from within. A wish to finally change that title. The title that could never match all those feelings swirling inside him…
But no matter how much Junior cared for him. No matter how much he knew him and his little micro-expressions, there was still a chance it was all just platonic. Just him being a good friend and nothing more. And Mark would never risk losing him over something he wasn’t sure about.
“Mark?” Junior’s voice broke through his thoughts; softly, not the smug or teasing tone he took on earlier.
Mark blinked back, his focus coming back to the man in front of him. “Hmm?”
“You went quiet on me again.”
“Oh. I was just thinking,” he said, his voice just as soft.
“Hm, you okay?” Junior asked gently, raising his hand to rest on Mark’s knee.
Mark just nodded, all his attention on that single point of contact. Junior’s hand was warm even through the fabric on his pants, making it hard to think clearly.
Meanwhile, Junior was quietly studying Mark. He didn’t quite believe him when he said he was alright. He just hoped that Mark wasn’t thinking about that jackass Dylan again. He didn’t want to force Mark into answering, though; instead, he just waited until Mark told him what was on his mind.
“I don’t want to go home,” Mark admitted softly. He said it so quietly that if Junior wasn’t paying close attention, he probably would have missed it.
“Then don’t”, he responded, voice just as soft. “You know you’re always welcome here.”
Mark didn’t answer. He just sat there. Staring. Junior’s hand was still on his knee. Warm. Steady. Real. It looked like it belonged there. Like a missing piece of the puzzle he didn’t know was incomplete. The thought sent a warm feeling through his chest; a feeling he couldn’t name.
He should probably say something. Or move away. But he found that he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be the reason that source of warmth left, so instead he nodded. To his relief, Junior didn’t move his hand away. He just left it there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And that made it dangerous.
Because now, Mark couldn’t ignore how close they were. He finally acknowledged the wine slowly coursing through his system, challenging every wall he built. He finally focused on Junior staring back at him, no teasing grin on his lips.
Mark licked his lips before saying, “Okay. Just for tonight.”
Junior’s eyes flicked towards the movement. His throat went dry. His hand was still resting on Mark’s knee. He should move it, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Plus, Mark didn’t seem uncomfortable with the contact, so he guessed it was fine.
A comfortable silence settled in the kitchen once more. Both of them were aware that they should probably make a move to get to bed, but they just remained there. Junior’s hand was still resting on Mark’s knee, thumb automatically rubbing back and forth, while he stared at the man he called his best friend.
Mark, on the other hand, made no move to move the hand. He just sat there swinging his legs slightly as he stared back. He had seen Junior’s gaze flicker slightly to his lips when he had licked them, and the alcohol in his brain had fed into his fantasy. But a part of him was still scared about being wrong, so he did nothing.
A sound from outside cut through the tension which built up in the room. It spooked both of them out of their stupor. It was the sound of rain hitting against the roof of the building and the windows. Clearing his throat, Junior stepped back and looked toward the window.
“You should probably shower,” he said, rubbing his neck.
“Mhm.”
“You can go in the meantime, while I look for something for you to wear.”
“Alright.” Junior backed away and started tidying up while Mark hopped down the counter and made his way to his bedroom.
Mark tiredly made his way towards Junior’s bedroom; the sounds of Junior storing the wine bottle and washing the dishes echoing behind him. Tonight had been an emotional rollercoaster, one he wished not to repeat. His thoughts, however, kept straying back to Junior without his consent.
As he undressed, he thought about the fact that even though Junior was tired, he still made an effort to be there for Mark. He didn’t push him to reveal why he had been crying, instead waiting for Mark to tell him on his own. He didn’t kick him out or pity him; he just stayed and listened…
Mark was no fool, of course; he knew the minute Junior found out what had actually happened, he was probably ready to murder Dylan. He also knew that Junior had figured out all the compromises Mark made for Dylan, which probably fueled his rage even more, yet he still stayed. The thought just sent a fuzzy feeling through Mark’s chest. It helped relieve the remaining tension. Still, he was too scared to do anything about it….
Junior’s POV
Junior heard Mark sluggishly make his way to the room; the events of the night finally zapping the remainder of his energy. His hands were busy with tidying the remnants of their conversation, but his mind was focused on something else.
He kept replaying the night from the beginning. The image of Mark standing in front of his door, looking so lost and vulnerable, made his heart ache. The fact that he seemed to genuinely believe he was at fault for the break-up made him feel even worse. At that moment, he just wanted to find the bastard and beat him until his rage subsided, but he knew comforting his Nong Mark came first.
He dried the last of the glasses and turned off the overhead lights, leaving the kitchen in darkness. Once he got a fresh towel from the hallway closet, he made his way to his room to look for something for Mark to sleep in. After rummaging through the drawers, he settled on one of the T-shirts that he knew would be a little loose on Mark and some shorts that were too tight for him.
He left the clothes on the bed and hung the towel on the rack in the bathroom before leaving the room to relock the door. Once he did, he tidied up the living room couch before turning off the lights in that room. While he preferred to sleep with them on in case he had to leave his room for any reason, he knew Mark preferred to sleep with them off.
Finally, after one final check to ensure everything was in its place, Junior returned to the bedroom. Just as he was closing the door, Mark stepped out of the bathroom.
Junior froze. Just a few feet away, Mark was standing there wearing HIS clothes. Since he was slightly taller than Mark, his T-shirt hung loosely on his frame. The shorts seemed to hug all the right places perfectly. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he had a towel around his shoulders, attempting to dry it.
It wasn’t even the fact that he was wearing his clothes. That was nothing new; he had done it countless times before. When he was too drunk to drive home, or the time he had gotten soaked in a sudden downpour. In every instance, he had borrowed some of Junior’s clothes.
The true problem lay in the fact that tonight, for some reason, the glass box that contained all his buried feelings had shattered. It had shattered the moment he had realised that he was the first person Mark came for comfort.
Amongst their countless friends, he chose him. He felt so safe being in Junior’s presence without question; he fell apart in his arms, knowing someone would be put back together again. And for someone like Mark, that was no easy task.
That simple fact shattered every excuse he hid behind. As he came to terms with it, he basked in the feeling after seeing how complete Mark looked wearing his clothes. He looked like the missing piece of a puzzle Junior hadn’t even known was broken.
“Come on, I’ll help you dry your hair.”
He didn’t even wait for a response before he made his way to the edge of the bed to sit down. Mark didn’t even hesitate to follow behind; quietly taking his space between Junior’s legs like he’d done so countless times. Once he was comfortable with his position, he tilted his head back onto Junior’s lap and closed his eyes.
Junior took the towel and gently started to dry Mark’s hair. He took extra care not to tug too hard on his hair. Giving each section equal care and ensured it was dried completely before moving on. A comfortable silence settled over the room; only the soft hum from the Air Conditioner could be heard.
Mark’s Pov
Mark had almost fallen asleep when he heard a faint voice from above.
“You know…” Junior started softly, “I really wanted to kill that fool when I found out what happened.”
The confession was so quiet, Mark wasn’t sure he even said it. But he did. And to be honest, it wasn’t news to him. Mark had known the moment Junior found out what happened, he would be pissed at Dylan. He was kinda surprised he didn’t have to physically stop him from seeking him out.
“I was a little upset at you too…” he said, voice still a gentle whisper.
That…that shocked him.
“Why?” he responded.
“...”
When he got no response, Mark cracked open his eyes to steal a peek at the man drying his hair. Junior looked like he was struggling to find the right words while also pondering whether even to say those words. So he asked again.
“Why Phi?”
Sigh. “I was upset that you fell for his lies.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, the fact you believed that you had to change yourself so that you could gain his love.”
It was Mark’s turn not to respond. He sat there and listened as his best friend got everything off his chest.
“I guess I was more angry at him, though. I mean, how could you not realise how amazing your partner is?” Junior's tone took on a hint of frustration as he continued his quiet rant. It was like if once he started, he couldn’t stop.
“Do you know how many times I wanted to slap that bastard in his face? Every time he posted a candid picture of you in his story or cancelled a date without a decent excuse, I wanted to strangle him.”
“Phi..”
“But worse of all, I was angry at myself. I was so mad that I didn’t show you otherwise.”
Mark’s eyes grew wider when he heard that. Did he hear right?
“What..?”
Junior finally snapped out of his trance, having realised what he said. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Wait, I did, but I didn’t mean to say it now.” He was frantically trying to explain himself, his tone shifting to panic.
Meanwhile, Mark was still trying to figure out what exactly he meant by that. “I was mad that I didn’t show you otherwise.” Show him what exactly?…
“Forget I said that.” Junior suddenly said, trying to change the subject. But Mark didn’t let him. He didn’t know if it was the wine from earlier or the fact that he was so tired of hiding behind the word friend that made him a little braver. But if there was even a small chance that this night could be better, he would take it.
“What did you mean by that, Phi?” he asked, refusing to follow Junior’s plan.
“Nothing…”
“Phi,” Mark said as he turned to face Junior. He gently rested his hand on his knee and looked up, trying to catch Junior’s gaze. Junior was avoiding him, though, his eyes darting around the room. Finally, as if he realised he couldn’t avoid the conversation, his eyes settled on Mark’s.
He let out a quiet sigh before continuing, “I just meant you deserved better.”
“I know, but you said something else.”
“Fuck. I’m not getting out of this, am I?” he said, chuckling quietly.
Mark just nodded in response. He waited patiently for Junior to explain himself, eyes firm. Junior took the towel and started drying the front of his hair again; it was as if he needed to keep his hands busy so the words could come out.
“Mark…I watched you change yourself to someone I almost couldn’t recognise for an idiot who didn’t see what a gem you were. And I know I said it before, but I really wanted to kill him.”
He took a breath before continuing. “What I didn't say was… that every time I saw you two together, I desperately wished it was me instead of him.”
Mark's eyes grew wide under the towel. His heart rate slowly sped up; he honestly wondered if Junior could hear it. But it was clear he didn’t, because he continued; his hands still rubbing his hair through the towel.
“It broke my heart to see you with someone else, but I could be happy knowing you found someone, even if it wasn’t me. But it destroyed my soul when I saw that you weren't being treated how you were supposed to.”
Mark grew completely still, his brain blanked, and his heart sped up even faster. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All this time he was so scared his feelings would never be reciprocated, and he could lose his best friend if he confessed. But it turns out that Junior was hiding the same thing.
Just as he was celebrating his little victories, he heard a sad little chuckle from above.
“Great, it seems I just lost my favourite person in the world. All cuz I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut.” He said as he ruffled Mark’s hair through the towel. Even though
No. He misunderstood.
Just as he was about to remove his hand, Mark’s own shot up and grabbed it.
Junior’s POV
Junior froze when he felt that hand wrap around his wrist. Every depressing thought that was swirling around his mind came to a halt. All he could focus on was that single point of contact. Mark’s other hand had reached up to grab the towel off his head and toss it on the bed next to him. Now, he was staring directly at him; his eyes seemed like they were trying to speak a dozen words at once.
But he was so damn scared of what those words were, he took the cowardly way out—he looked away. For once in their friendship, he didn’t want to decipher the feelings behind the eyes that haunted his dreams. The moment he did, he heard Mark let out a small sigh. Damn it, he must be really upset…but he hasn’t let go of his hand yet…
He desperately wanted it to mean something—anything, but—he squashed that part of him. Mark only saw him as a friend, nothing more.
“Phi,” he said softly.
Nope, I’m not ready for a rejection tonight.
“Phi, please stop jumping to conclusions before I get a chance to speak.”
Junior turned slightly to catch a glimpse of Mark, confusion written on his face. He had already prepared for the rejection speech; what other conclusion could he get? Mark, of course, was still looking at him with a determined spark in his eyes.
“Phi,” he started again, “you know…you say you can read me like an open book, yet you didn’t read my heart right this time.”
That caught his attention; slowly he dragged his gaze back and settled on his Nong. That same Nong was still looking up at him from his spot on the floor. His eyes were shining with mirth and…relief?
“But then again, I took pride in understanding your mind but couldn’t figure out your true feelings either.” He let out a chuckle as he moved his hand to hold onto Junior’s hand instead of his wrist. Slowly, his thumb started to rub soothing circles on his skin.
Junior felt a small shiver run down his spine at the action, his eyes drifting down towards their joined hands.
“Maybe we should take a crash course to update our information.” he said, chuckling to himself. He did always prefer to hide any of his negativity with humour.
“Sure,” Mark responded, “but not as friends.”
Junior’s heart plummeted. He was sure the damn organ had reached his feet by now. His face fell just as fast too, of course Mark wouldn’t want to stay friends with him, not after that.
“Of course,” he responded with a bitter smile. But just as he was pulling his hand away, the grip on it tightened.
“You misunderstood me again Phi.” Mark’s eyes were shining with pure amusement now, as he spoke.
“Huh?”
“Earlier you said that you were mad you didn’t show me better?” he asked.
Junior just hummed a response.
“Then…why not show me now?”
Mark’s POV
Mark was definitely going to let this opportunity slip him by. He had waited too long just for the night to end in a misunderstanding. So when P’Ju had started to move his hand away from his head, his brain moved on autopilot and grabbed his wrist.
He had felt when Junior tensed up due to his touch. Another sign of him misunderstanding the situation. Usually, P’Ju was open to physical contact; the only times he froze up when faced with it were when his head was preoccupied with some sort of negative thought.
Another clue was the fact that he was avoiding his gaze. He took the towel off his head to try and get a better look at him; once he did, he got all the confirmation he needed. Because the look on Junior’s face broke his heart. To anyone else, he may have looked the same as always when he wasn’t talking. But to Mark, the signs were clear.
The slight tensing of his jaw, the lack of eye contact and the small downturn of his lips. He had tried to convey his emotions through his eyes, knowing Junior would be able to figure out the general meaning, but he had turned his gaze away as if afraid of confirming his very wrong conclusion.
“Phi,” he said, voice soft with affection.
When he got no response, he tried again.
“Phi, please stop jumping to conclusions before I get a chance to speak.”
That finally elicited a reaction from him. He turned his head back towards him slightly, watching from the corner of his eye. The slight furrow of his brow gave away his confusion, though. Still reflecting his determination in his eyes, he continued.
“Phi,” he paused, gathering the right words, “you know…you say you can read me like an open book, yet you didn’t read my heart right this time.”
That seemed to catch Junior’s full attention. He finally turned to look at him properly. Mark let his relief and amusement show through his eyes at finally being able to see his Phi’s eyes again.
He continued, laughing at himself. “But then again, I took pride in understanding your mind but couldn’t figure out your true feelings either.”
Finally gathering his courage, he switched from holding his wrist to intertwining their fingers. Absent-mindedly, he started rubbing circles on Junior’s hand as he thought back on their memories. Despite knowing how to read the older man, those feelings had slipped past him completely. Maybe if he wasn’t so busy worrying about his fears, he would have noticed.
Vaguely, he noticed Junior’s gaze had drifted to their joined hands before using his humour to try and hide his true feelings.
“Maybe we should take a crash course to update our information,” he said, chuckling to himself.
Sigh, Mark really wished sometimes Junior would actually talk about his feelings rather than hiding behind humour.
“Sure,” Mark responded, deciding to play along, “but not as friends.”
He saw the exact moment Junior processed his words; the slight smile had vanished, and his eyes dimmed. He never wanted to cause that look again. Just as quick as it appeared,d though, it vanished; Junior used one of his smiles to hide it.
It was just so wrong though… Usually, his smiles were as bright as the sun. But this one was just so grim and gloomy. Mark knew instantly that he had jumped to the wrong conclusion once more.
“Of course,” he said as he started to pull his hand away. In response, Mark just tightened his grip. Finally, he decided to take mercy on his poor Phi’s heart.
“You misunderstood me again, Phi.” Mark could feel his amusement creep into his gaze as he spoke
“Huh?”
“Earlier you said that you were mad you didn’t show me better?” he asked.
Junior just hummed a response.
“Then…why not show me now?”
Junior stared back; Mark could see the gears turning in his head as he worked to process what he just said. In the end, all he could manage was a single, “What?”
“You said you wished it was you instead of him, right?” Junior nodded slowly.
“And that you were mad when he wasn’t treating me right?” Another nod.
“Then, I’m telling you to show me. Show me how I’m supposed to be treated. Stop wishing you were the one by my side and come join me.”
Mark patiently waited for a response to his little speech. He knew by Junior’s slightly unfocused eyes that he was still processing his words. What he didn’t expect was the response he would get.
“Can I kiss you?”
The voice was so soft and hesitant that Mark wondered if he imagined it, but the red blush creeping up Junior’s ears was a dead giveaway he didn’t.
“It’s just that I don’t know what else to possibly say that would convey how happy I was to hear that. But it’s okay if you don’t want to, I mean you just broke up with your ex and–”
Mark cut off Junior’s rambling by getting on his knees and simply pecking him.
“Does that answer your question?” he asked, in a teasing tone.
Junior smiled as he replied, “Nah, I didn’t hear you properly.”
Mark rolled his eyes before giving him another peck on the lips. Just as he was about to move away, though, Junior gently grabbed his neck and kept him there longer.
Their kiss was slow and gentle yet full of passion, as if it was confessing every unspoken word the two had between them for the past few years. Finally, they separated for air, their foreheads resting against each other, shy smiles resting on their lips. They spent a few seconds like that, just savouring the moment.
“So…can I officially brag to Book and Mhor that I finally caught my moon?” Junior asked, a lopsided grin replacing the shy smile from earlier.
Mark chuckled softly before nodding his answer.
“You know, there are other things you still have to prove you’re better at than Dylan.”
“Hmm, like what.”
“Mark pulled away from Junior before leaning back down to whisper something in his ear. When he pulled back, a dangerous tint had settled in his lover’s eyes.
“Game one.”
After those two words, Mark wouldn’t get a chance to sleep until the late hours of the morning. It was only after he finally saw stars that his Sun allowed him to pass out from exhaustion.
~Present~
As the memories finally settled into his mind, he realised that during that period of slumber, Junior had managed to change their sheets and clean him up. But as he glanced around the room, he found no trace of him. If not for the marks littering his skin and slight pain in his lower back, he would have thought it was all a fever dream his brain conjured due to heartbreak. Getting out of bed, he wandered out of the room and into the kitchen. The sight that greeted him was something he definitely imagined before.
Standing in front of the stove was Junior wearing a bright blue apron covered in little moons. His back was turned, and he seemed focused on his task. So focused he hadn’t noticed that Mark had gotten out of bed and was watching him from the threshold.
Deciding to use this to his advantage, Mark quietly approached him and hugged him from behind. Of course, Junior was startled a little, but he relaxed once he realised who it was.
“Good day, sleepyhead,” he said, his voice still a little groggy from sleep.
“Don’t you usually say Good morning?”
“Teerak, it’s 12 P.M”
“...”
“Anyways, I made breakfast- well, lunch. Go wash up and then come eat.”
“Thank you.”
Mark hurriedly went and did as he was told; his stomach had already started to protest during their short conversation. As he was washing his face in the mirror, his eyes caught one of the marks Junior left on his collarbone. The faint purple mark was a huge contrast to his skin.
His thoughts strayed back towards last night. He lost a lover and gained one in the same night. Some may want to say he was moving too fast and that the fast ones burn out faster, plus the fact that they were friends made it worse in society’s eyes. But honestly, he didn’t care. Junior had cared and loved him quietly this entire time; now that he had the chance to do it openly, Mark was sure he wouldn’t get hurt.
Plus, the fact that they were friends just meant they could skip over the awkward phase of getting to know each other. So maybe he didn’t gain a lover; maybe he gained a soulmate. The thought brought a smile to his face. He quickly finished washing up and headed back out to the living room to his new partner.
Of course, they still had a lot to learn. But he knew for a fact that they would learn together. P’noir still had to be a little more honest with his feelings, while Mark, himself, would need to be reminded once in a while that his feelings were valid. But he knew they would face whatever problem occurred like they always did, with a little patience and understanding.
5 years later, when he was slipping a thin golden band with a small moon engraved on it on a long, thin finger, he instantly knew his heart made the right choice by accidentally showing up at room 315.