#compared to how my nieces (1 to 2 years apart in age) interact

[jimins-crooked-tooth]

Apartment 504 — Chapter 3

Summary:

Mark eyed the glass in Jackson’s hand and hesitated.  He didn’t know this man. The only time he’d ever talked to him was once when Jackson was intoxicated past the point of coherence, and once after both had returned home at the same time. This man was so loud, so sporadic, so unpredictable, and so unlike anyone Mark would ever want to be around.

But still, after a timid look into Jackson’s hopeful brown eyes, Mark met Jackson’s glass midway, the clink of glass and a shared smile between the two kicking off the start of the night.

More Chapters

[Chapter 1]  [Chapter 2]  [Chapter 3]  [Chapter 4]

Also read on Archive Of Our Own:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11292225/chapters/25263081

i dedicate this chapter to my best friend, madison (tumblr: @jaemamba​) who motivated me so much to write this chapter! she literally sat on facetime with me for over an hour today while i wrote this chapter and I want to thank her so much for pushing my abilities and being my amazing and honest editor. love you, mads! 

A few weeks passed as Jinyoung and Mark grew accustomed to living in their new apartment. Compared to dorm life, apartment life was paradise for Mark; he and Jinyoung now had their own separate bedrooms, a joint bathroom that only the two of them had to share, a living space, and a full kitchen all to themselves. This meant no uncomfortable encounters among dorm floor residents, no smelly bathrooms, no dirty showers, and no breeches of privacy.  He had space now—space to live, space to think, space to breathe.  Additionally, the apartment complex was far enough off campus that they weren’t kept awake at night by rambunctious frat house party-goers.

The schoolyear was fast approaching and Mark was excited to begin his last year of university. The overall college experience had treated Mark well over the years, despite his crippling social anxiety and his persistent unwillingness to “put himself out there.”  Sure, Mark’s introverted tendencies cost him a lot of what was deemed “the true college experience” but he was happy with his time spent here.  He had accompanied Jinyoung to a handful of parties, lived in the dorms, stayed up late studying for exams, even stressed over classes like any other college student, but he never quite lived up to the social aspects; he didn’t get involved in any clubs or groups on campus like most other students. It was unnerving for Mark to even think about committing to something that depended on frequent meetings, in the off chance that something may someday come up and prevent him from attending whatever it was he was a part of. Not to mention, the uneasiness that came from the potential of not fitting in with others.

And so, Mark never joined anything.  Instead, he lived vicariously through whatever Jinyoung did on campus and in turn, he supported his friend whenever possible.  Jinyoung was an active participant in their university’s debate team as well as a periodic member of the on-campus book club, which Jinyoung swore was not nerdy, (but Mark knew the truth).  Jinyoung was reserved at times, but very often he was extroverted, willing to meet new people, indulge new experiences, and get involved on campus.  He was the only reason Mark ever got out of the house to do anything like go to parties, festivals, clubs, etcetera.  Without Jinyoung, Mark was a total home-body.

The only other time Mark wasn’t hanging around the house was when he was at work. Despite Mark’s displeasure for human interaction, he found comfort in being around and working with children, which is why he started working at his university’s on-campus daycare midway through his college career.  He grew up with several younger cousins, nieces, and nephews, and always found a special place in his heart for them.  Kids were kind, curious, optimistic, imaginative, hopeful—traits others Mark’s age seemed to lack.  And while it was obvious that Mark loved kids, it was even more obvious that kids loved Mark.  For some inexplicable reason, children always flocked to Mark, whether it be at family gatherings or at his own job.  But he didn’t mind it.  He felt at ease around children—cherished, safe, accepted.

“Kang Yi Na!” Mark scolded from across the room, scooping up the crying child at his feet, and sauntering over to the young girl stationed at the play table.  She hung her head as Mark approached, fiddling with one of her puzzle pieces to purposefully avoid his gaze. “Yi Na,” Mark said softly, crouching down to her level as the little boy against his chest wrapped his arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. “Why aren’t you letting, Kyung Woo play with you? He just wants to help you make the puzzle.”  Yi Na pursed her lips but still said nothing.  “Yi Na,” Mark sing-songed, rubbing Kyung Woo’s back to soothe his cries. “I know you can hear me.”

Yi Na looked up at Mark, cheeks puffed out and eyes desperate for understanding. “If Kyung Woo plays with the puzzle, he’s going to mess it up!” she defended.  “He’s too young!”

Mark took a seat beside Yi Na while simultaneously holding a very distraught Kyung Woo in his arms. “Well why don’t we try to show him how to play,” Mark suggested with gentle eyes.  “He might not understand how to play because he’s never been taught. Here.”  Mark grabbed a puzzle piece off the table and handed it to Kyung Woo, who had stopped crying at this point, but still had his chubby arms wrapped around Mark’s neck, sniffling pitifully. Mark spent the next ten minutes helping Yi Na demonstrate to Kyung Woo how to play with a puzzle, eventually leaving the two children to play together on their own.

Days like this were not uncommon at the day-care, children crying over not being allowed to play a game, children crying over losing a game, children crying over having their feelings hurt… the list goes on.  Still, Mark loved his job.  Being surrounded by crazy, creative, playful kids every week warmed his heart and gave him a gratifying sense of responsibility.

The day went by quickly between all the regularly scheduled daycare activities, and before he knew it, all of the children were picked up by seven o’clock. Mark stayed behind for a little bit to clean up the messes the children made over the course of the day, dusting, sweeping, vacuuming, the lot.  A half-hour later, he waved to his boss as he made his way out the door, promising to see her during his next shift.

Mark exhaled a deep sigh as he entered his car, resting his head softly against the seat and closing his eyes tiredly.  He was more than tempted to just call off his evening plans with Jinyoung and spend the rest of the night sitting alone in his room playing video games or catching up on some much-needed sleep, but he and Jinyoung hadn’t been out together in at least a few weeks, and canceling now would not only upset Jinyoung, but also make Mark feel like a bad friend. So, after another couple minutes of pondering his three options, he grudgingly shoved his keys into the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot.

 . . .

 Walking up to the crowded bar made Mark’s anxiety spike and he was again tempted to just call it quits and retreat back to the apartment, but Mark’s feet continued to lead him towards the front doors. Upon entering, he realized things were even worse than he expected. The bar was absolutely roaring with life—college students standing around in groups, yelling at their favorite sports teams through television screens, knocking back rounds of shots, and laughing drunkenly at their intoxicated friends. Mark glimpsed briefly around the cramped room in hopes of finding his roommate already reserving a table for the two of them, but was ultimately disappointed after a quick once-over. He sighed and approached the bar, settling himself down on a stool towards the end of the bar, leaving an empty seat beside him for Jinyoung. The bar tender made his way over to Mark and he ordered a drink for himself as well as one for his friend who would surely be turning up soon.

As he waited for Jinyoung to join him, he twisted in his wooden stool and sipped on the edge of his glass, taking in the sights around him—tipsy jocks goofing off around the pool table and spilling drinks all over the hardwood floor, couples making out obscenely in corner booths, and tipsy girls dancing to the music playing over the loudspeakers. Mark shuddered at the overwhelming atmosphere and turned back around to face the counter, the commotion behind him suddenly a little too much with so little alcohol in his system.  He downed the rest of his drink and asked the tender for another, his eyes falling to the still-full glass he’d ordered earlier for Jinyoung.  It reminded him that his friend still hadn’t shown up.

Mark pulled his phone out of his back pocket to check the time and found a half-hour old text message from his roommate sitting idly on his screen.

 From: Jinyoung

Hey, I’m getting off work later than usual… reschedule drinks for next Friday???

 Mark groaned and dropped his forehead onto the bar, a muffled thud causing the liquid in his glass to tremble with the vibration. Why couldn’t I have checked my phone before I came in here? Mark thought. I could have avoided all of this. He mentally cursed himself for not checking his messages sooner and his roommate for… well, he didn’t know what he was cursing him for yet, but he was cursing him nonetheless.

“Everything alright?” an amused voice asked from his right. He picked his head up from the counter to meet the eyes of a woman looking to be around his age staring back at him, a smirk stretched onto her soft lips.

Mark rubbed his forehead and picked up the drink in front of him, putting it to his lips and tipping his head back, feeling the slight burn of alcohol make its way down his throat.  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he breathed, resting his chin in his palms and staring at the wall of liquor behind the bar.

“You look like you’ve been stood up,” she acknowledged, taking a seat beside Mark, placing her drink on the counter next to his.

Mark shrugged.  “I guess you could say that.”

“Well that’s makes too of us,” she admitted, downing a quick sip of beer, and breathing an obvious sigh. Mark shifted in his seat uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.  Not only was he terrible at making small talk (or any talk, really) with strangers, but he also was not the best when it came to comforting others. So, he settled for a simple, “oh,” and she continued, pausing momentarily to ask the bar tender for another drink.

“It’s really unfortunate,” she explained gloomily. “I spent all this time getting dolled up only to end up here alone.”

Mark nodded, sending a small, sympathetic smile in her direction to indicate that he was still listening, despite the fact that his heart had started beating faster in his chest as it dawned on him that this girl seemed to most definitely be hitting on him.

“You look like you’re in the same predicament,” she maintained, gesturing to Mark. He looked down at his outfit—a pair of black jeans with rips at the knees, a white tee-shirt, and red and black plaid flannel adorning his body.  Mark didn’t think he looked any different than he ever did.  He was usually one to dress for comfort over style and today was no exception. Still, he nodded and smiled awkwardly, running a hand through his hair nervously as she proceeded to make casual conversation with him.

The girl finished off her drink and exhaled a satisfied breath, looking again to Mark. “So, what’s her name?” she asked, clearing her throat. Mark furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head in confusion at the question.  “The girl you were supposed to meet here,” she clarified, and Mark’s eyes widened.

“O-oh,” he stammered awkwardly, feeling his face heat at her words. “Uh, well… um…” Mark felt the weight of her eyes on him and he suddenly felt an uncomfortable churning in the pit of his stomach.

Before he said any more, he took his phone out of his pocket, pretending like he was receiving a phone call and politely excused himself to answer it. Mark hurried to the bathroom on the other side of the bar and forced the door closed behind him, ignoring the puzzled looks being sent his way from the two people at the sink.  He waited for them both to leave before hunching over the sink, his strong hands gripping the granite counter, and staring into the mirror at his own reflection.  He took mental note of the pink in his cheeks and closed his eyes to will the blush away for good as he turned on the cold water from the faucet to splash on his face. The bathroom door opened behind him, but he hadn’t thought much of it until he stood up to dry his face and met familiar eyes staring back at him in the mirror.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Jackson smiled, walking over to the counter where Mark was standing and grabbing some paper towels out of the dispenser for Mark to dry off his face. Mark nodded in thanks and accepted the gesture, taking a moment to pat the water off his cheeks before facing Jackson again.  “Everything okay?” he wondered, headed tilted in curiosity.

Mark turned to the mirror again, finding that his face had thankfully returned to its usual color.  He brushed a thumb under the corner of his eye to wipe away a drop of water he had missed while drying his face.  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Mark lied through his teeth.

“You drunk this early in the night?” Jackson asked, an amused grin appearing on his face. Mark shook his head in response and closed his eyes, feeling himself on the brink of a headache from the craziness ensuing just outside the bathroom door, the thin walls only blocking out a small share of the madness. Jackson’s gaze softened a bit at Mark’s actions and he took a seat on the counter, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Are you sure you’re okay?  You look a little… out of it,” he said.

Mark leaned back against the bathroom wall and looked up at the ceiling, eyes tracing the simple patterns above his head. “It’s just been a rough day,” he sighed. “Work was long and kind of frustrating, my roommate can’t meet me here for drinks tonight like we planned, I don’t want to even be here at all, and there’s a girl at the bar who’s hitting on me, but…” He trailed off and shook his head dismissively, his sentence never reaching completion. “Never mind.”

“But what?” Jackson pushed.

Mark shifted his weight from one foot to the other, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “But nothing.  It’s not important.”

Jackson scooted closer to Mark on the counter and lowered his voice to a volume that only he and Mark could hear, despite there not being anyone else in the bathroom with them. “But you don’t like girls,” Jackson finished as though he had known what Mark was going to say all along.  If it was possible for Mark’s entire body to flush red in embarrassment, it would have.  Instead, the blood rushed to his cheeks at Jackson’s words and he cursed himself again for letting people and the things they say to have such an effect on him. “Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Jackson assured him, eyes full of compassion.

“How did you even know?” Mark murmured quietly, tightening his fist to force his blush off his face.

“Well, for one, when cute girls hit on straight guys, they don’t usually hide out in bathrooms to avoid them,” Jackson laughed, causing Mark to shield his face in embarrassment because of course, straight men don’t complain about girls hitting on them.  Mark was pretty certain he was just going to die of embarrassment right there in the bar bathroom in front of his neighbor that he hardly knew.  But then he felt his hands being pulled away from his face, Mark opening his eyes to meet Jackson’s soft, understanding smile. “Not to mention,” he continued, “I’m gay too, so that makes finding my fellow gays extra easy.” Jackson’s grin was far too contagious for Mark to not reciprocate and he felt heat in his cheeks cool as he met Jackson’s gentle eyes.

“I guess that’s fair,” he replied sheepishly, shoving his hands into his pockets and walking towards the door. “Anyways, I gotta go tell this girl that… things aren’t going to work out the way she wants them to.” He swallowed hard at the thought and nodded to Jackson, bidding him a good rest of the night.  “See you around,” he said, slipping out the door and returning to his seat from before. She smiled as he sat down beside her again and proceeded to order the two of them another round. Mark wanted to tell her thank you for the drink and that she was really very kind and that she seemed like an all-around great person, but what he needed to tell her was that he was not the guy she thought he was. He needed to tell her before she got her hopes up or got the wrong idea about where things were going.  But how would he even start?  How would he ever be able to work up the guts to tell her that there would never be anything between them because he didn’t like women—he never had and he never will. And what would happen if after he confessed, things went south? What if she was super close-minded like other people he had met, and was repulsed by him? his sexuality? his very being?

Mark’s throat closed up as his anxiety skyrocketed, the thought of outing himself to this girl, this stranger, making it difficult for him to breathe, the fear of the unknown beginning to eat away at his core. But before he could think about it any longer, he was startled by a pair of strong arms wrapping around his middle.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” the raspy voice said above the music, and Mark spun around in his seat to find Jackson’s grinning face only a couple inches away from his.  He winked at Mark, sliding a hand around his waist and turning to face the girl Mark had been talking to the majority of the evening. “Hi there,” he greeted, bowing his head in her direction. “Thank you for keeping my boyfriend company until I got here,” he beamed, fingers tightening subconsciously on Mark’s hip.

Boyfriend? Did he just call me his boyfriend? Mark’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing those words, his eyes widening and chest tightening almost on command.  The warmth of Jackson’s body pressed to his side and the arm enveloping his middle caused his heart to palpitate and his stomach to flutter, the dizzying scent of Jackson’s cologne and aftershave making his head spin.

The girl looked back and forth between him and Jackson as if trying to find the correlation between Mark, Jackson, and his words.  A long moment passed before she exhaled, a gentle smile forming on her lips as she replied, “It’s not a problem. I hope to see you around again soon.” She nodded to Jackson and then to Mark, kind eyes lingering a second longer on Mark before sliding past the two and heading to the opposite side of the bar.

Mark sighed in relief as Jackson settled into the seat beside him, the weight and warmth of his arm retracting from Mark’s torso, causing Mark to shudder at the loss of contact. Mark grabbed his glass off the bar and gulped down rest of it, the aftereffects of the alcohol leaving a stinging sensation in the back of his throat.

“Woooah,” Jackson laughed, placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder and taking the drink from his hand. “Slow down.” Mark panted in an attempt to catch his breath, feeling Jackson’s eyes studying him from the side.

“Why did you do that?” Mark asked him.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I thought it might help.  You looked like you were about to have a mental breakdown when you left the bathroom and I could only imagine it was because you were nervous,” he explained.

Mark bit the inside of his lip, unsure of how to respond.  Should he thank Jackson for helping him?  Should he chew him out for out for not asking him if it was okay to approach the situation the way that he did?  He wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling right now and it made it hard for him to know for sure what he wanted to say.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” Jackson apologized.  “I should have asked you if it was okay first.” His brown eyes fled from Mark’s, almost regretfully, a side to Jackson Mark had not yet seen.  In his experience, Mark had only seen two sides of Jackson: drunk Jackson and confident Jackson.  This was new.

Mark shook his head and drummed his fingers on his thighs. “It’s okay,” he said, eyes cast down at his lap.  “It worked out okay so I can’t really be upset.”  He quickly locked eyes with the bar tender and waved him over to order the two of them drinks.  Jackson started to protest but Mark assured him that he wanted to, that he felt like he owed him for his help.

“Who did you come here with anyway?” Mark asked, searching the room for a potentially familiar face.

“I was here with my roommates, but they both left,” he said, thanking the bar tender for the new drinks.

“Are they coming back for you?” Mark asked. “How are you getting home?”

Jackson grinned, taking a sip of his drink, and looking at Mark over the rim of his glass.  “I was hoping I could catch a ride home with you,” he said.

Mark’s drink caught in his throat and he coughed abruptly, covering his mouth with his hand as he sputtered. Once he’d regained his composure, he set his glass back on the counter, nodding his head reluctantly. “Uh, y-yeah. That’s fine.”

“That’s a relief!” Jackson said and Mark hid a smile into his palm as he rested his face in his hands. Jackson’s bubbly personality was hard to resist. “Well,” he started. “Since my friends ditched me and yours never showed up, how about we have our own fun, just you and me?” he offered, picking up his drink and extending it in Mark’s direction, an eyebrow cocked in question.

Mark eyed the glass in Jackson’s hand and hesitated. He didn’t know this man.  The only time he’d ever talked to him was once when Jackson was intoxicated past the point of coherence, and once after both had returned home at the same time. This man was so loud, so sporadic, so unpredictable, and so unlike anyone Mark would ever want to be around.

But still, after a timid look into Jackson’s hopeful brown eyes, Mark met Jackson’s glass midway, the clink of glass and a shared smile between the two kicking off the start of the night.

hey kiddies! thank you all for being so patient and supportive of my story! like i said, this is my first got7 fic AND markson fic and i am honestly having a BLAST writing it!!! if you like my story, please comment, share with your friends, and give me some kudos! it would mean so much and help motivate me to write more (;

love you guys!!!! <3